Old Greek Nature ST 00 Far Rial A

Old Greek Nature Stories
TOLD THROUGH THE AGES

Uniform with this Volume
Legends of Greece and Rome
Favourite Greek Myths
Stories of Robin Hood and his Merry Outlaws
Stories of King Arthur and his Knights
Stories from Greek History
Stories from Wagner
Britain Long Ago
Stories from Scottish History
Stories from Greek Tragedy
Stories from Dickens
Stories from the Earthly Paradise
Stories from the Êneid
The Book of Rustem
Stories from Chaucer
Stories from the Old Testament
Stories from the Odyssey
Stories from the Iliad
Told by the Northmen
Stories from Don Quixote [magne
The Story of Roland and the Peers of Charle-
Stories from Thucydides
Stories of Elizabethan Voyagers
The Story of the Crusades
The Story of Napoleon
Stories from Xenophon
The Story of Hereward
Stories from the Faerie Queene
Other volumes in active preparation
Danae and the Tower of Brass
Fr. Sir E. Burne-Jones
By Permission of Mr. Frederick Hollyer

BY
F. A. FARRAR B.A. B.Sc.

L
With Sixteen Exquisite Plates after Originals in the
Principal Galleries
Sacred Goddess, Mother Earth,

Thou from whose immortal bosom,
Gods,and men, and beasts have birth,
"
Leaf and blade, and bud and blossom,
SHELLEY
LONDON
GEORGE G. HARRAP &? COMPANY
15 YORK STREET CO VENT GARDEN W.C.
MCMX
Tvrnbun &> Shears, Printert, Edinburgh.
Contents
I. How THE OLD GREEKS LOOKED AT NATURE . 9

II. THE CHIEF GODS AND GODDESSES OF OLYMPUS . 19
III. STORIES OF THE SUN-GOD . . .31
IV. THE CHIEF DEITIES OF EARTH . . .43
V. THE LESSER DEITIES OF EARTH . . .55
VI. DEITIES OF THE SKY AND AIR I . . 67
VII. DEITIES OF THE SKY AND AIR II . . 79
VIII. GODS AND GODDESSES OF THE OCEAN
IX. STORIES OF RIVERS
X. STORIES OF ANIMALS I
....
. .
.
.
.
.119
91
105
XI. STORIES OF ANIMALS II . . .133

XII. STORIES OF BIRDS
XIII. STORIES OF BIRDS
XIV. STORIES OF BIRDS

I
II
III
....
.
.
.
.
.
.
.149
.173
l6l
XV. STORIES OF TREES . . , .185

XVI. STORIES OF FLOWERS AND PLANTS . . 197
XVII. STORIES OF VOLCANIC REGIONS . . . 209
XVIII. THE GORGON'S HEAD, AND STORIES OF STONES . 221
XIX. STORIES OF THE HEROES I . . .231

XX. STORIES OF THE HEROES II . . . 243
INDEX 253
List of Illustrations
DANAE AND THE TOWER OF

BRASS .... Sir E. Burne-Jones Frontispiece
THE CHILDHOOD OF ZEUS G. F. Watts ... PAGE

12
....
.
JUPITER Capitol, Rome , . 16
THE FORGE OF VULCAN Velasquez ... 22

APOLLO CiTHARjEDus . Vatican . . . . 34
A BACCHANTE Lord Leigkton 52
....
. . .
NEPTUNE Adam, Louvre . . 94

FLYING MERCURY Giovanni di Bologna 110
....
.
PSYCHE Harry Bates . . .146

THE LAMENT FOR ICARUS . Herbert Draper . . 158
VARVAKEION STATUETTE OF
ATHENA National Museum, Athens 164
CUPID ASLEEP . Perrault 188
CLYTIE .... Lord Leighton 202
VENUS .... Capitol, Rome 214
PERSEUS AND ANDROMEDA . Lord Leighton 226
ORPHEUS .... J. M. Swan, R.A. 248

CHAPTER I HOW THE :
OLD GREEKS LOOKED

AT NATURE
Greek Influence and Art No Science
in Literature :
a World where Things were possible Origin of

all
Nature Myths Greeks and Romans

CHAPTER I
How the Old Greeks looked at Nature
than three thousand years ago there

lived in the land which we now call
MORE Greece a simple, but brave and intelligent
people, who called themselves Hellenes, but who are
better known to us as Greeks, the name given to them
by the Romans. As time went on they made such

wonderful progress that ttiey_reached the height of*
\
their glory five hundred years before the people of^ \
our own had got beyond the stage of painted

island
and skin-clad savages. While the latter were still
living in caves or in rude huts, Athens, the most
famous city of the Greeks, was adorned with beautiful
statues and temples which are still the admiration of
the world.
"
Charles Kingsley, in his preface to The Heroes,"
a book which every boy and girl should read, says :
"
You can hardly find a well-written book which has
not in it Greek names, and words, and proverbs ;
you cannot pass through a great town without
passing Greek buildings ; you cannot go into a well-
1 2 Old Greek Nature Stories
furnished room without
seeing Greek statues and
ornaments, even Greek patterns of furniture and
paper, so strangely have these old Greeks left their
mark behind them upon this modern world in which
we now live." He goes on to remind us that to them
we owe the beginnings of our knowledge of mathe-
matics, of our philosophy, of our geography and
astronomy, of our laws, and freedom, and politics,
i
Now, one of the most interesting things that these

old Greeks have left to us is the wonderful collection
which grew up and were handed down
of stories
among them from generation to generation, from

a time long be|ore the art of writing was invented,
until at last they were written down, and so saved
from being forgottenv^ Most of these were in the form
of poetry, and form they have come down
in that
to us. Since, as we have seen, the modern world
owes so much to this famous nation, it is fitting
that we should know something of what they thought,
and in what way they regarded the world around
them; and one of the best ways of getting this
knowledge is through the wonderful stories in which

they delighted.
Many of them are so beautiful that they have a
great charm, not only for boys and girls, but for
older people as well, for they show that the old
Greeks had not only a very poetic imagination, but
How the Greeks looked at Nature 1
3
alsomany true and noble ideas.
They loved courage
and truthfulness, dutiful conduct to parents, courtesy
to strangers, and kindness to those in need.
Since references to the old Greek and Roman
stories (for the
Romans, too, had
own, though their
most what they had were borrowed from the
of
Greeks) are so constantly met with in reading, and

especially in reading poetry, it is clear that without
some knowledge of them, we must miss a great deal
of the profit and enjoyment of literature. The same
thing also applies to art, for artists have always
been attracted by these old stories, and if we have
read them it adds wonderfully to our enjoyment of
many a beautiful picture or group of statuary.
We must not forget that the outlook of the old
Greeks was very different from our own. Science
has made such great progress, has found out so much
about the laws of nature that the ways in which
is,
the forces of nature act and education is so general,

that we are all more or less familiar with them, and
there is not much room
left for the imagination.
If anyone were to us nowadays, seriously, that

tell
he had seen in the forest a dreadful serpent, which

had sent out flames and clouds of smoke from its
mouth and nostrils when he approached it, or that
a certain tree was really a maiden who had suddenly
taken root, and been changed into that form, we
14 Old Greek Nature Stories
should wonder that he could expect us to believe
anything so absurd.
But these Greeks lived, like untaught children, and
like all nations in their infancy, in a world where all
sorts of wonderful things were possible. Knowing

little or nothing of the laws of nature, they were apt
to suppose that things around them had intelligence
somewhat like their own, and saw no reason why the
most marvellous tales should not be true.
The restless waves of the sea, dashing against the
shore, and ever trying to tear it away, became
4 Hekaton-cheires, or Hundred-handed monsters, the
ffffspring^)f Uranus (Heaven) and Gaea (Earth) ;

while the awe-inspiring volcanoes andêarthoûajkes
gave rise to theji^brothers, the__Titans, who warred

even against the gods. The flashing lightning and
the destroying thunderbolt were not only the dreaded
weapons of Zeus, the king of the gods, but were

personified as Cyclops, each with one flashing eye.
" "
The warring of the elements was no mere figure of
speech to them, but the expression of the wrath of
the gods, and sometimes even the very conflict of
supernatural powers.
The gentler aspects of nature, too, were equally
instinct with life. The flash of a foam-crested, sunlit
wave in the distance easily became a glimpse of a
beautiful sea-nymph sporting in her native element ;
5
a sudden gleam of sunshine amid the gloom of the
forest, disappearing almost before the hunter or the

woodcutter could turn his eyes towards the spot,
was changed by his startled fancy into a nymph or a
satyr while the moonlight played strange tricks
;
with the eyesight of the belated wanderer in the

and sent him home with a wondrous tale
forest, of
how he had caught sight of a fleeting nymph of
Diana's huntress train.

The mysterious sounds of nature, too, helped to
swell the list of strange beings created by their lively
imagination, as anyone can easily understand who

has listened to the voices of the night or of the storm.
Yet we must not think of these simple men of old as
timid or cowardly. On the contrary, they were
active, enterprising, and daring in the face of real
danger, and even when surrounded by fancied

terrors, like Hereward the Wake, who struck manfully
and killed the Fairy Bear, though he half expected
his sword to turn to water in his hand, they bore

themselves like the brave, high-minded men they
were.
We must not be surprised, seeing how full of
mystery nature was them, that many_qf _their

for
myths, as these imaginary stories are called, have

theiiôrigin in the wonders of nature. The sun and
the moon, the storm and the rainbow, the cruel rocks
and whirlpools which threatened their frail vessels
on the sea, even the strange intervals of perfectly

calm weather which occurred from time to time, all
gave rise to myths. Not only the sea and sky,
but the rivers and streams, the mountains and
the woods, even the trees, had their special
divinities.
Many peculiarities of birds, beasts, and insects

seemed to them to have something very human
about them, and they accounted for them by stories
in which human beings were changed into these
forms by some god or goddess, while by even stranger
metamorphoses, as they called these changes of form,
some unfortunate people became trees, flowers,
rocks, and streams. It is these Nature Stories with
which, in the present volume, we propose to

deal.
But to understand the stories it is our object to
relate, it is necessary to have a general acquaintance
with the ideas of the old Greeks as to the gods by
whom they conceived the world to be governed.
Many of these ideas were borrowed by the Romans,
aswe have already said, for the Romans, as a younger

nation and near neighbours of the Greeks, were very
|
much influenced by the more imaginative and
! civilised nation. And as the Romans had far more
to do with Western Europe than the Greeks had,
Jupiter
Capitol, Rome 16
7
we are more familiar with these old heathen deities
by the names given to them by the Latin race.

In the next chapter therefore, in which some
account of the chief gods and goddesses will be given,
the Latin names will be added along with the Greek.
CHAPTER II: THE CHIEF
GODS AND GODDESSES
OF OLYMPUS
Jupiter Juno Minerva Mars Vulcan Apollo
Diana Venus Cupid Mercury :
Exploits of
Mercury on his Birthday Vesta Olympus
CHAPTER II
The Chief Gods and Goddesses of
Olympus
gods and goddesses of the Greeks,
THE though they ruled the world and were so

above mortals, were very like magnified
far
human beings, and though, on the whole, they

governed justly, punishing the evil-doer and reward-
ing the virtuous, yet we find them in the old legends
animated by passions similar to those of men, joining
in the same pursuits, and even tainted by some of
the same vices.
The supreme ruler of the universe jwas Zeus (the
Roman Jupiter, or Jove), the wisest and most
powerful of the gods, throned on Olympus, his throne
being surrounded by the seats of the other deities.
He was the dispenser of justice, whose decrees,
though he at times consulted with the other gods,

were final, yet bound by those of the mysterious
Fates. He rode forth on a thunder-chariot, launching
against his enemies the unerring thunderbolt, or the
21
flashing lightning. He bore an cegis, a breastplate

or shield of terrible splendour, though, like all the
gods and goddesses, he sometimes appeared on earth

disguised as an ordinary mortal, or even assumed the
form of an animal.
His and wife was Hera (Juno), the Queen of
sister
Heaven, majestic in power, wisdom, and beauty,

but rather severe, and inclined to be jealous of her
husband and lord. To the brave and virtuous, how-
ever, she oftenshowed her favour.
Next came Athene^ or Pallas (Minerva), the goddess
of the lightning and the storms, the warlike maid,
who sprang fully armed from the head of Zeus. She
was the goddess of wisdom and the patron of skill,
of domestic arts, such as spinning and weaving, and
of the tilling of the soil. Like Zeus, she also bore an
aegis, but to hers was fixed the head of the Gorgon

Medusa, slain by Perseus, so terrifying with its
snake-entwined locks that all who looked upon it
were turned to stone.
The and Hera were Ares (Mars),
children of Zeus
Hephaestus (Vulcan), and the goddess Hebe, the last

of whom, the beautiful personification of eternal
youth, is one of the lesser gods. She was the cup-

bearer of the gods, until on one occasion she stumbled
when carrying the nectar which was the wine of the
gods, and falling into disgrace, her place was taken
3
> 2
O 8
S 3 I
fe
13 S
>
Gods and Goddesses of Olympus 23
by Ganymede, a beautiful youth who was carried off
from Troy by Zeus in the form of an eagle.

Ares was the god of War, fierce and revengeful,
delighting in bloodshed, and often taking part in the
wars of men. He was sometimes attended in battle
by his sons, Terror, Trembling, Panic, and Fear,
and by his sister Eris (Discord). Though he was the c/b*
*'
god of War, Athene was his superior, the meaning *<Vf
of this evidently being that Wisdom is more powerful
than Violence.
Hephaestus was the god of Fire, especially connected
with the internal fires of the earth, of which volcanoes, Ca*.
named after him, are the outlet ; also with the fires
of the forge and of the home. He was a wonderful

artificer in metals, and in hisworkshop under Mount
Etna, which acted as the chimney of his forge, he
madcf, with the help of the cyclops, his workmen, the
I! armour and weapons of the gods, and forged the
The he made had
1
thunderbolts of Zeus. things

supernatural powers ; thus, when the sea-goddess
Thetis went to him to obtain a suit of armour for her
famous son Achilles, she found him making tripods
which would come at his call, and retire when no
longer needed.
Phoebus, or Apollo, and Artemis (Diana) were the
son and daughter of Zeus and Leto (Latona), who is
the personification of Night. As Apollo is the Sun- ]
god and Artemis the Moon-goddess, this fable
represents the natural light, both of day and of night,
springing from darkness.
Helios was an older sun-god than Apollo, but as
time went on the two were gradually confused to-
gether, and the stories that had been told of Helios
were transferred to the newer deity. It may be
mentioned that the same thing happened with
respect to others of the immortals. And as the
Greeks established many colonies, it often happened
that then* gods and goddesses were very similar in
their character, and they also became confused.
The deeds of the local deity were ascribed to the
Greek one, and in this way the stories told of par-
ticular gods became more numerous, and in some
cases contradictory.
Of the natural objects that would attract the
all
attention of such a race as we have described, the sun

is by far the most striking and majestic. It is
therefore not surprising that Apollo played a more
important part in the life and myths of the Greeks

than any other deity, perhaps not even excepting
Zeus. The sun drove away the darkness and brought
the cheerful day, with all its activities and joys,
hence Apollo was the god of Music and Poetry.
His instrument was the lyre, on which he was without
a rival, and to some of his favourites he gave the gift
of song. He was the god, not only of the sun, and
of natural light, but also of the light of the soul,
hence he was the god of Prophecy, of the Arts and
the Sciences.
Even ancient nations realised how closely the
light and warmth of the sun, like fresh air, are con-
nected with the health and well-being of mankind.
Accordingly, we find that the Sun-god is also the god

of Healing, and it was very natural that, from their
point of view, they should imagine that to him the

human race owed its knowledge of the healing art.
This he transmitted to them through one of his sons
ffisculapius (Gr. Asklepios).
Apollo is always represented as a beautiful youth,

the very embodiment of grace and vigour. Jffis
weapons are arrows, which he launches with unerring

aim against those who have offended him. Jjuthese
we see the rays of the sun in his blazing splendour.
4rtemis, or Diana, the twin sister of Apollo, was

the maiden goddess, the ideal of grace, modesty, and
maidenly vigour. She was the goddess of the silver

bow, a devoted huntress, yet the protectress of wild
animals. She was followed by a train of nymphs
vowed to perpetual maidenhood, who shared with
her the toils and joys of the chase. She is identified
with the Moon, and the cold, pure light of the orb
of night typifies her nature. We can easily under-'
stand how
the silvery moonbeams, darting through
the leaves of the forest, became the arrows of her
ivory quiver, and the slender new moon her silver

bow. Like her brother, she was an unerring archer,
and took part in many of his adventures. The bear,
the wild-boar, the dog, and the goat were all her
favourites, but especially the hind, which is often
represented standing beside her in pictures and

sculpture. She was gracious and gentle, but could
resent very severely any injury to her favourites,
or insult to herself.
Venus, to use the Latin name, the goddess of love

and beauty, of gardens and flowers, at the touch of
whose feet the earth burst into bloom, was the
daughter of Zeus and Dione ; or, according to another

myth, rose from the sea-foam, and was therefore
"
called
4phrnrlitp :
the In the watery
foam-born."
world, the dolphin and the swan were her favourites ;
in the air, the dove and the sparrow were sacred to
her. Her was gentle and helpful in some
influence
cases, but in many others she was the cause of strife

and sorrow. She was attended by her son, the ever
youthful Cupid, who is identified with the Greek
Eros, the winged god of love, bearing a bow and a
I
quiver of golden arrows, with which, with unerring

I aim, he inspired the breasts of mortals with love.
Hermgs (Mercury), the son of Zeus and Maia,
was the messenger of Zeus and the other gods. He is
represented with winged ankles (the wings are in
most accounts attached to golden sandals) and a
winged hat. He bore a golden (or wood) caduceus,
or rod, topped with wings and entwined with snakes,
and was swift as the wind. He was famous for his
beauty, grace and endurance, the sweetness of his
and his eloquence, as became
voice, his skill in music,
the herald of the gods. jQne of^ jus_duties was to
conduct to Hades the souls of the dead. He was
also the patron of inventors, of travellers, and of
merchants, the bringer of good luck in all kinds of
enterprises.
from many of his attributes, that
It seems likely,
he was originally a personification of the Wind.
Even the wind's habit of snatching and carrying off
things is found in Mercury, for thieves claimed him
as their patron god, and an amusing story about him
seems to justify them. During the same day in
which he was born he went out, stole the oxen of
Apollo which were grazing in the mountains, and
with great cunning concealed their tracks as he drove
them into a cave. Then, so as to set a good example,
he made a fire, and offered two ofthem as a sacrifice
to the gods, including himself. Then he went back
to his swaddling-clothes, and while he was sweetly
sleeping, Apollo, having found him out, came in and
charged him with the theft. As the infant god
persisted in denying it, Apollo took him before
Jupiter and made his complaint. The culprit
repeated his denial, and said that Apollo was a
coward to bully a helpless babe, who did not even
know what cattle were. But the rascal winked so
knowingly that all present were convulsed with
laughter. The quarrel was adjusted, Apollo made
I e
really Mercury the herdsman of his oxen, and gave him
the the caduceus, and the infant not only swore not
T h JeJl , to steal from his half-brother again, but made him a
present of the lyre, which he had invented and made

from the shell of a tortoise, as one of the incidents of
his eventful birthday. Later in his career he stole
at various times the girdle of Venus, the trident of
Neptune, the sword of Mars, and the tongs of Vulcan.

Vesta, the elder sister of Zeus, was the goddess
and therefore the guardian of the home.
of the hearth,
In her temple at Rome the fire on her altar was kept
continually burning, guarded by her six priestesses,
"
the vestal virgins."
The home Heaven of the Greeks,
of the gods, the
was on Olympus, of which Mount Olympus in Greece
was a symbol. Here they had their palaces, of which
that of Zeus was the chief. In his great hall they
feasted, their food being ambrosia and their drink
nectar, which gave them the strength and beauty of
eternal youth. In this hall, too, were held the
councils of the gods, and here the songs of the Muses,
the music of Apollo's lyre, and the jokes of Vulcan
gave pleasure to the assembled deities. At times
the gods of the Underworld and of the Ocean, as well
who
as those usually lived on the Earth, were also
summoned to take their places in the councils of the
Father of Gods and Men.
CHAPTER III: STORIES
OF THE SUN-GOD
The Hyperboreans Slaughter of the Python
Contest with Marsyas Story of Niobe Chariot of
the Sun Aurora and the Hours Daily Course of
the Sun Story of Phaeton Why Ethiopians are
black The Poplars Cycnus and the Swan
jEsculapius and the Centaur Chiron Sons of
iEsculapius Hy geia
CHAPTER III
Stories of the Sun-God
spent a period on earth, bringing

many benefits to mankind. His chief
APOLLO
abode in Greece was Delphi, which was
ever after the principal seat of his worship, and
where he had an oracle, dr priest to whom he revealed
his willand by whom he sometimes foretold coming
events. But before settling at Delphi he spent a
year among the Hyperboreans. Boreas was the god

of the north wind, and this fabulous race lived
beyond the bleak mountains from whose caverns

the north wind issued. They lived a peaceful and
happy life, feeding upon the fruits which Apollo
caused the earth to bring forth abundantly. For
half the year their climate was perpetual daylight
and balmy spring ; they were free from toil and
warfare, from disease and old Evidently the
age.
"
Greeks had some vague idea of the Land of the
Midnight Sun."
When the god came to Greece he had a conflict
with the Python, an enormous serpent which had
c
come from the mud left by the great flood of
Deucalion and Pyrrha, apparently a tradition of the
Deluge. This monster he slew with his golden
arrows, a story which arises, according to some,
from the destruction of the darkness of night by the
sun, or according to others from the yictory of the
sun over the darkness and cold of winter. So Apollo
is the god of the year, with its months and its seasons,
bringing in spring and summer, and the fruits of

harvest. Winter was not counted as one of the
seasons, but rather as a period when nature lay in

the grip of death, waiting for the sun to manifest
again its power.

Apollo was a pure and just ruler, promoting life
and peace, but he could inflict terrible vengeance when
offended, as the following story shows. The goddess
Athene at one time played on the flute, but happening
one day to catch sight of her reflection in the water
as she was playing, she noticed how it distorted her
face. She therefore threw away the instrument in
disgust, and it was picked up by a satyr, or, as some
say, a peasant, named Marsyas.
Now, the goddess having breathed into it, it gave
forth, when he began to play, the most beautiful
strains. Thinking that the credit was due to him-
self, he became full of conceit, and challenged Apollo
to a trial of skill, the Muses being asked to act as
Apollo Citharaedus
Vatican
Stories of the Sun-God 35
judges. Apollo was deeply angry at his
presumption,
but accepted the challenge. Marsyas played beautiful
music on the flute, but Apollo brought forth such
divine strains from his lyre, that the Muses at once
decided in his favour, and the god, to punish Marsyas
for his impiety, bound him to a tree and flayed him
alive.
In another story, in which also presumption is
punished, Apollo and his sister Diana join in executing

vengeance. Niobe, the wife of Amphion, king of
Thebes, was a proud and boastful woman, and dared
to claim that shewas superior to Latona, who had
only one son and one daughter, for she herself was
blessed with seven sons and an equal number of
beautiful daughters. When the women of the city
were offering their worship at the altar of Latona one
day, she rebuked them, claiming their reverence for
herself. Thereupon the goddess summoned her son
and daughter, Apollo and Diana, and besought them
to avenge the insult. Burning with indignation,
they swiftly descended to the walls of the city. On

the plain were the seven sons of Niobe, engaged in
chariot-racing, wrestling, and other sports. One

after another they were struck down by the unerring
arrows, and their lifeless bodieswere borne to the
palace.
While the queen and her daughters were mourning
over their dead, the fatal arrows again began to fly,
until the unhappy mother had but her youngest
daughter left, and even while Niobe was appealing
to the gods, too late, to spare but this one, the
maiden was slain. So great was her woe that she
was turned to stone, and being carried by a hurricane
to her native land,was placed on a mountain, where
she continues to distil tears.
The stories in which Apollo represented as

is
slaying men and women with his arrows probably

refer tosudden deaths by plague, which the ancients
believed to be due to the excessive heat of the sun
possibly some of them owe their origin to death by

sunstroke.
Apollo, originally Helios, is represented as driving

the chariot of the sun in its arched path across the
heavens. This car was of dazzling beauty, made by
the god of Fire, of pure gold, adorned with precious
stones, the whole reflecting the radiant splendour of
the sun. was drawn by four immortal steeds, from
It
whose nostrils issued flames, and which no weaker
hand than that of Apollo himself could manage.
The goddess Aurora (representing an older Eos),
the personification of the Dawn, opened the gates of
the palace of Helios each day, so that the glorious
equipage could be driven forth, and herself preceded

the god of day to the starting point of his journey.
It was the duty of the Hours, who were inferior
deities, to yoke the glorious steeds to the chariot.
Mounting the car, Phoebus then drove the fiery

horses steep ascent, guiding them all day long
up the
in then* appointed path until in the evening they
descended in the west into the wide stream of Oceanus.
The Greeks thought that the earth was a vast, flat
circle, divided in the middle by the sea (theJMedi-
terranean), and with the broad river of Ocean flowing

round it. Homer and Hesiod, from whom we get
the oldest of these stories, do not explain how the
sun got back to its starting point, ready for the next
day's journey, but later poets imagined a wonderful
winged boat, made, like the chariot, by Hephaestus,
which received the sun, with its golden car, and bore
them swiftly round the ocean to the east again.
not unnatural that the ancients should imagine,
It is
when the sun's heat was exceptionally fierce, that the

chariot had come nearer to the earth than usual.
Probably the tradition of some very hot summer,

when the earth was parched up with drought, and
great forest fires took place, gave rise to the famous
story of Phaeton. We
can imagine too, from the
conclusion of the story, that the long drought was
ended, as is often the case, by a terrific thunder-

storm.
Phaeton was the son of Apollo and Clymene, one of
the ocean nymphs. He was a beautiful but vain and
presumptuous youth, and on one occasion he went
to the palace of the god, and asked him to give him
a proof that he really was Apollo swore
his father.
by the Styx, the great river of Hades, the under-

world an oath which could not be broken to grant
whatever the youth might desire, whereupon Phaeton
asked to be allowed to drive the chariot of the sun
for a whole day. The father, greatly dismayed, and
foreseeing the result, did his utmost to dissuade his
son from pressing his request, but in vain. But he
was bound to keep his oath, so he anointed him with
a sacred ointment to protect him from the scorching
rays, set his own crown of rays upon the youth's
head, and led him to the car, which had just been
brought out.
The god then gave him careful directions, telling
him to keep a firm hold of the reins, but to spare the
whip, and to keep within the middle zone; avoiding
both the northern and the southern. He was also to
keep the well-worn path, going neither too high nor
too low.
Impatient to be off, the son shook the reins, and

away dashed the immortal coursers up the steep
ascent. But no sooner did they feel that the weight
behind them was less than usual, and that the hand
on the reins was not that of their master, than they
became unmanageable. They rushed wildly from
the usual track, now so high as to threaten the
heavens themselves with destruction, and now so
low that it seemed as if the earth must share the
same fate. The forests took fire, the streams and
even the rivers were dried up, so that the gods of
the earth, and Poseidon (Neptune), the Ocean-god,
to whom the rivers belong, called on Zeus to intervene
and save them from destruction. The Ethiopians
were so scorched that they turned black, and their
descendants remain so to this day.
Phaeton, from whose terrified hands the reins had
long since dropped, was dashed from the car by a
thunderbolt hurled by Zeus, and his lifeless body fell
into the river Eridanus (the Po), where the river-
nymphs, in pity, buried it. His three sisters mourned

for him so long and so bitterly that at last Zeus,
to release them from their misery, turned them into
polpar-trees by the river-side, and their tears into

amber. This seems to account for the fact that the
poplar flourishes best near streams. Spenser refers

to the same fact when he speaks in the "Faerie
"
Queene," of the poplar, never dry."
His friend Cycnus (Greek JcuJcnos, a swan) also
bewailed his loss, bending over the river into which
his companion had vanished, until Apollo
lost
turned him into a swan. So he swam about on the

river, gazing down into the water as if
looking for
and uttering at tunes a mournful cry.
his friend,
Here we have a reference to the attitude and voice
of the swan, and this, with the fact that the name
of the youth is the .same as that of the bird, makes it
probable that it was these peculiarities which first

suggested the myth. In some cases the mere likeness
of the name some personage of former times to
of
that of some animal or other object seems to have
given rise to a story in which they are shown to be

the same.
Mention has already been made of JEsculapius,
one of the sons of Apollo. As a child he, like a number
of other heroes and demi-gods (one of whose parents
was a god or goddess), was placed in the care of a
wise old Centaur named Chiron, one of a race of beings
having the body of a horse, with the upper part of a

man springing from where the horse's neck should
be. Chiron himself, gifted by Apollo and Diana,
was skilled in music, in prophecy, and in medicine,
as well as in archery and hunting, and he brought
up the boys in his charge to excel in all manly pur-

suits, including wrestling, boxing, running, and the
use of weapons, as well as in music and poetical
composition.
He encouraged, too, the special gifts of the boys.
"
So the wise child," Êsculapius, wandered about
and learning their healing
collecting all kinds of herbs
properties, and when he grew up he became the most
wonderful of all physicians. So skilful did he become
that he even restored the dead to life. Pluto, the
king of the Underworld, angry at this invasion of his

realm, complained to Zeus, who thereupon killed the
wise old physician with a thunderbolt, though after
his death he was received among the gods. As a god
he was worshipped, and he is still referred to as the
founder and patron of the healing art. His sons,
who helped in the war against Troy, had some of
their father's skill ; so had his daughter Hygeia or
Hygieia, who was worshipped as the goddess of health,

and has given her name to the science of hygiene.
We shall find Apollo concerned in many of the
stories in later chapters.
CHAPTER IV: THE CHIEF
DEITIES OF EARTH
Greek Attitude towards Nature Ceres Proserpine
and the Wanderings of Ceres Explanation of Winter
The Nymph Cyane Story of Triptolemus Pan
The Stillness of the Heat of the Day Bacchus
Midas Origin of Alluvial Gold
:
CHAPTER IV
The Chief Deities of Earth
have seen that the Greeks regarded the
WE
work
operations, which we look upon as part
of the ordinary course of nature, as the
of separate gods. Some were greater
of these
gods, who bore a general rule over the whole world ;

some were inferior deities, who were concerned with
the working of particular operations ; while others
were confined to particular localities and had very
limited powers. In the present chapter we shall
learn something of the gods and other supernatural
beings specially connected with the surface of the

Earth. And however mistaken these old races were
in the multiplication of gods, we cannot but admire
the reverent spirit shown in many of the myths by
which they tried to explain all the mysteries of nature
around them.
The marvellous workings Nature in the changes
of
of the seasons, the way in which the earth seemed to
burst into new life with each returning spring, the
beautiful profusion of the flowers, the generous
provision yeai by year of fruits and grain, and
all things necessary for man's comfort and well-
being, awoke in them wonder and gratitude, and

from their fertile and poetic imagination sprang
many kindly deities to whom they ascribed all
these marvels.
Of these, the chiefwas Demeter, joiown to the
Romans, to whom her worship was brought by the
Greek colonists who settled in Sicily, as Ceres.
From her character as the Earth-mother (which is the
meaning of Demeter), the goddess of agriculture and

of plenty, thename of Ceres was given to wheat and
other grains, and we still speak of these as cereals.
It was Ceres who taught men to till the ground, and
so introduced a settled, pastoral life instead of the
wandering, unsettled life natural to men who knew

nothing of how to till the soil. Bountiful harvests
were a sign of her favour, while drought, famine, and
blight visited the land which incurred her displeasure.
She is often represented in art with her hands full of
wheat- ears.
It seemed strange to the Greeks, that the earth,
so full of beauty and fruitfulness, should for months
in each year lie cold and lifeless, and they invented
a very beautiful story to account for the change.
This, the story of Persephone, or Proserpine, is one
of the most famous of the old myths.
The Chief Deities of Earth 47
Ceres became the wife of Jupiter (to use their
Latin names), and their daughter Proserpine she
loved most dearly, being unhappy if she was long
out of her sight. One day, as the maiden was gather-
ing flowers by the side of a beautiful lake in the

Sicilian woods, in a spot where perpetual spring
reigned, she caught sight of a wonderful narcissus
which bore a hundred flowers, and filled the air with
perfume. As she stooped to gather it, a chasm
opened, and from it there suddenly appeared a
splendid chariot, drawn by four black horses, and
bearing Pluto, the god of the underworld. The grim-
looking god seized on the terrified maiden, and bore
her off. She screamed for help, but the horses dashed
off atsuch a speed that pursuit was hopeless. Reach-
ing the bank of a river he was suddenly faced by the
nymph Cyane, after whom the stream was named.
Rising partly out of the water, she reproached Pluto
him that he should have asked
for his violence, telling
the maid of her mother instead of carrying her off
by force.
She even tried to prevent his passage, stretching

out her arms as to stop him, but the god, enraged
if
by her opposition, threw his royal sceptre into the
depths of the stream, and urged forward his terrible

steeds. The earth at once opened under the blow,
and made a yawning gulf right down to Tartarus,
into which the chariot with its burden descended.
Cyane was so mortified at this treatment that she
was entirely dissolved into tears, and became part
of the waters of which she had lately been the
guardian deity.
When
Ceres learned that her daughter had dis-
appeared, she was overwhelmed with grief, and

though she had no idea where to look she wandered
nine days and nights in search of her. Coming to
Eleusis, she sat down to rest on a stone near to the
dwelling of Celeus. His little girl, pitying one who
"
seemed to be a poor lonely old woman, said, Mother,
"
why do you sit here alone ? and the title sounded
sweet to her. The father, too, begged her to come
into his house, and at last she yielded. As they
walked along, Celeus told her that his little son lay
with fever, and Ceres stooped and gathered a few
ill
poppies. Going in, they found all weeping, for the

child, whose name was Triptolemus, seemed at the
point of death. Ceres, however, stooped and kissed
him, and at once he was restored to health. Grate-
fully they spread the table and offered her food,
and while they ate she put poppy juice in the child's
milk.
During the night she arose, and taking the sleeping

boy, rubbed his body and uttered a charm over it.
Then she laid him in the ashes of the fire, but the
mother, who had beenwatching, uttered a shriek,
and springing forward, snatched him up. Ceres,
assuming her proper form, then told her that her
interferencehad prevented her child from being
made immortal. She promised, however, that he
should grow up to be famous, and to teach many
nations how
to use the plough, and win the rewards
of labour from the earth. At a later period he
travelled over the world in the chariot of Ceres,
drawn by winged dragons, teaching men agriculture,
and bestowing on them the grain given him by the
goddess.
In her wanderings, Ceres came back to Sicily, and
to the banks of the stream of Cyane. The nymph,
having been transformed, could not speak, but she

bore to the feet of the goddess the girdle of Proserpine,
which had fallen into the stream, and it was at once
recognized. Then Ceres understood that her daughter
had been carried off, and laid for a time the curse of
barrenness on the land which had witnessed the deed.
But learning from the all-seeing Sun-god (or, accord-
ing to another account, from Arethusa), what had
happened, and that Jupiter had agreed to allow
Pluto to carry Proserpine to be his queen, she
off
appeared before the king of the gods to demand her

return. Jupiter tried to reconcile her to her loss,-
pointing out that Pluto was his own brother, and

D
that it was an honour to her daughter to be made
his queen. But Ceres insisted that her child should
be restored, and at length he agreed, on condition that
she should not have taken food while staying in the
underworld, for that was in accordance with the
decrees of the Fates.
But chanced that Proserpine, walking in the
it
garden of Pluto, had plucked a pomegranate and

eaten a few of the seeds, so that Pluto had the right
to keep her. Ceres had vowed that, until her
daughter was restored, there should be no harvest,

and the earth was suffering under her displeasure.
The labour of the husbandman brought no reward,
and the earth, bare and unlovely, was threatened
with famine. So Jupiter intervened, and an agree-
ment was come to by which Proserpine was to spend
part of the year with her mother and the rest as queen
of Hades.
Ceres now, with her recovered child, returned to
her place in the Olympian seats, the harvests sprang
up abundantly, the trees assumed their verdant

dress, and the again adorned the earth.
flowers
But during the absence of Proserpine in the halls of
Pluto the earth still mourns her loss, until her return
heralds the joys of Spring,
Another Nature-deity was Pan, the god of the
woods and meadows, of flocks and herds, a son of
The Chief Deities of Earth 5 1
Mercury and a Dryad. His dwelling was among the

caves and valleys of the mountains, and in the recesses
of the woods. His appearance was peculiar and
repulsive, for small horns sprouted from his forehead,
his nose was misshapen, and his legs were represented
by the shaggy hind-legs and the hoofs of a goat.

The shepherds and belated wanderers dreaded meet-
ing with this fearsome being, especially at night, and
when the gloom of the forest or the waste caused
an attack of sudden fright it was thought to be due
to Pan. Hence such, a sudden, unreasoning attack,
or panic, as we still call it, was spoken of as a panic
fear.
However, though Nature can inspire fear, its usual

aspect is mild, joyous, and kindly, and so Pan,
though dreadful when annoyed, was a jolly god,
fond of hunting, of music (he played the syrinx, or
and dancing also of making love to the
Pan's-pipes) ;
nymphs, with whom he often danced and sported.

The silence of the hot hours in the middle of the day,
when all is still in hot countries, and even men usually
indulge in a was explained on the ground that
siesta,
Pan was resting, asleep in some cave or shady nook,
and the birds, beasts, and insects were hushed so as
not to disturb him. The Greeks were therefore
careful not to disturb those hours with clamour,'
for fear of arousing the sleeping Pan.
The vine, with its luscious fruit, and the wine,
so highly esteemed by the ancients, made from the
juice of its grapes,was thought to be such a wonderful
gift to men that it was due to a special god, Dionysus,
or Bacchus. The vine was the highest type of the
generous fruitfulness of the earth, so Bacchus was the

god of the springing sap, and of vegetation generally.
The cheering and enlivening effect of wine, too,
was reflected in the character of the god, who is
always represented as young, blooming, joyous, and
full of good-will to mankind. Since wine promotes
sociality,Bacchus was the promoter of civilization,

of peace, and of law.
He isrepresented as the son of Jupiter and Semele,
and was cared for by the nymphs in his infancy.
Then Silenus, son of Pan, the oldest of the Satyrs,
took charge of him, and is often represented with
him. While wandering in the forest, Bacchus found
the vine, and made from its fruit a drink which
delighted the satyrs and nymphs who accompanied

him. Under its influence they became excited,
and gave vent to their feelings in shouting, singing,
and dancing.
Bacchus then went abroad through the earth, even
as far as India, teaching men how to cultivate the
vine. People welcomed the god and his gift with
joy. They joined in the revels of his followers

A Bacchante
Lord Leigh ton
By Permission of Henry Graves & Co.. Ltd.
fauns, satyrs, and nymphs the Bacchanalia which
were part of his worship. In these the intoxicating
effect of wine was illustrated, and its effect, when used
in excess, in depriving man of his reason for a time,
is shown in some of the myths of Bacchus. Thus

when Pentheus, King of Thebes, sought to prevent
the worship of Bacchus, his mother and her sisters,
who were under the frenzy inspired by the god, took
him for a wild animal and tore him to pieces.
There is a well-known story connected with
Bacchus which, like so, many of these old tales, tries
to account for a curious fact in nature which seemed
to the Greeks to call for an explanation. Among
the forms in which gold is found, it occurs in some
cases in small grains in the beds of rivers, being
washed down from the rocks and soil containing it.
The Pactolus, a small stream in Lydia, was such a
river, and the reason why its sands were mixed
with grains of gold explained in the following story.
is
Midas, king of Phrygia, a worshipper of Bacchus,

was a wealthy and avaricious monarch. On one
occasion some of his servants found Silenus and
brought him to the palace of Midas, where he was

treated with great honour. Bacchus, who was very
fond of his old tutor, to show his approbation, bade
Midas ask any favour he would. The greedy and,
foolish king, not content with his already vast wealth,
prayed that everything he touched might be turned
into gold. The prayer was granted, but in a terribly
literal way which he had not expected. When food
was set before him the dish, to his delight, became
pure gold at his touch, but alas the food also shared
!
the same fate before he could swallow it. He raised

the wine- cup in his hand, and it immediately became
gold, but the cooling draught, the instant it touched

his lips, was also turned into the metal which he had
so loved, but which he now began to loathe.
His soft, luxuriouscouch offered him splendid
discomfort the moment he attempted to lie down
on it, and the wretched king, unable to eat, drink,
or rest, threatened with starvation in the midst of
plenty, implored the god to take back his gift.

Bacchus, taking pity on him, told him to bathe in
the waters of Pactolus, whereupon he was relieved of
the fatal gift which he had foolishly craved. The
sands of the river, however, have ever since yielded
gold, his power having been transferred to it.

CHAPTER THE LESSER
V:
DEITIES OF EARTH
Comparison with Fairies, Elves, Trolls, Gnomes,
Mermaid Satyrs, Fauns, Nymphs :
Oreads, Naiads,
Dryads, Hamadryads Story of Dryope and the
Lotus Story of Echo and Narcissus Story of
Erysichthon Story of Rhoecus Vertumnus and
Pomona The Horse
CHAPTER V
The Lesser Deities of Earth
idea o peopling the wild or lonely

places of the earth with imaginary super-
1 natural beings was by no means confined
to the ancient Greeks, or to ancient times. On the
contrary, every nation has its own brood of these,

which are wonderfully hard to kill, and many of them
remain even now as objects of more or less real
belief among the ignorant, while to educated people
they are only interesting fancies. The same process

which gave rise to the nereid has given birth to the
mermaid, which has not even yet been entirely
banished from the ocean caves. So, too, we have
the and gnomes of Norse and German folk-lore,
trolls
" "
and the elves and fames, the good people who still
exist, at least for the old folks, in many parts of rural
Britain and Ireland. We feel tempted, as in the case
of a certain mysterious personage much in vogue
at Christmas-time, to pretend to believe in them still.
The less important but far more numerous beings/

some of which have been already mentioned, were of
57
several kinds. The Satyrs helped to people the
recesses of the forest, which showed such abundance
of that the ancients imagined they must shelter
life
intelligent beings as well. They embodied the wild,

free,ungoverned life of the woodland, so their days
were filled with pleasures ; hunting, dancing, and
sporting with the nymphs, who, however, usually
fledfrom them, and often making themselves intoxi-
cated with wine. They, like Pan, were repulsive
in appearance, with small horns on their foreheads
and the lower part body goat-like. The Fauns
of the
were a Roman
idea, and were confused with the
satyrs, having a similar but even more grotesque
appearance. As time went on, however, artists

represented them as differing very little from human
beings.
The beauty, and movement of Nature also
life,
gave rise to the Nymphs, joyous and graceful creatures

having the appearance of beautiful maidens, the word
nymph indeed, originally meaning a maiden. The
streams,murmuring over their shallow beds, rippling
over the pebbles, making music in then* cascades,
and imparting life and sweetness to the land the ;
rivers, with their deeper waters ; the trees, with

their waving arms and their whispering leaves, now
vigorous, now drooping ; the pools, the mountains,
the valleys, were all inhabited by nymphs.
The Lesser Deities of Earth 59
The mountain-nymphs were Oreads, bold, swift,
and graceful, who attended Diana on her hunting
expeditions, slaying all the beasts of the chase,
whether fierce or gentle. The Naiads were nymphs
of the springs, streams, and lakes, and were especially
associated with the water-lilies. The oreads and the
naiads were immortal, just as the mountains endure
and the streams "go on for ever," but the Dryads,
or tree-nymphs, came into being with the individual
trees which formed their abode, and perished when
they were destroyed. The Hamadryads are specially
associated with the oak-trees, yet Pomona, who is
represented as a hamadryad, was the especial guardian

of the apple-orchards, though she presided over all
the fruit-trees.
The story of Dryope shows how punishment over-
took those who destroyed a tree or plant which con-
tained a nymph, and it was fortunate that only an
occasional tree was so inhabited. Dryope, walking
out with her sister lole and her little son to gather
flowers with which to decorate the altars of the
nymphs, saw a lotus plant growing near the water.

Plucking some of the purple blossoms, she gave them
to the child, when lole noticed that the plant was
bleeding, for ithappened that it was the abode

so
of the nymph Lotis, who had been changed into this*
form. Dryope turned to flee, but it was too late,
she was already rooted to the spot, and while begging
for forgiveness began to put forth leaves, and was
herself turned intoa lotus plant.
While able
still to speak, she begged that she might
be protected from violence, and that her son might
often be brought to play by her side, and taught to
protect every plant and flower, since it might be

some unfortunate being like herself, or the abode of
a nymph.
A
famous story is told of the oread Echo, whose
name will be at once recognized. The invisible
being whose voice so often repeats the words of any-
one calling aloud in the woods or valleys must have
greatly puzzled people who knew nothing of the
reflection of sound,and it would have been strange
if a
myth had not arisen to account for the marvel.
Echo was a beautiful nymph, a favourite and frequent
companion of Diana. She was, however, as occasion-
ally happens in the case of more modern nymphs, far
too fond of chattering, and Juno was so displeased
at her forwardness that she deprived her of her
voice, except so far as to be able to repeat words

said to her.
Some time afterwards she fell in love with Narcissus,
a youth famous for his beauty, the son of the river-
god Cephissus, but as she could only mimic what he
said, he was naturally not attracted to her. He
"
therefore repulsed her, saying, I would rather die
" "
than thou shouldst have me." Have me ! she
repeated, but in vain. Then in despair she wandered

amongst the caves and the rocks, and faded away
until nothing was left of her but her voice, which
may still be heard.

Now Narcissus was not only hard-hearted towards
Echo, but he disdained all the other nymphs, for he
was full of conceit. them prayed that he
One of
might be punished by learning for himself what it

was to love and to meet with no return of affection.
The goddess of Love granted the prayer, and brought
punishment upon him. One day he caught sight of
his reflection in the clear water of a stream, and fell
violently in love with it. He could not bear to leave

the spot, and often tried to embrace the beautiful
being he saw in the water, until at length he pined

away and died, and was changed into the flower
which bears his name.
In the story of Dryope the offence punished was
an unintentional one, but upon another offender,
Erysichthon, who was full of impiety, a far more
dreadful punishment fell. In a grove sacred to Ceres
stood an ancient oak, on which votive offerings often
hung, and round which the Dryads, hand in hand,

often danced in a ring. This oak the impious mar*
told his servants to cut down, but they feared the
anger of the deities, and hung back. Caring nothing

for the goddess, he seized an axe himself, and buried
the blade in the tree, which seemed to shudder and
groan, while blood trickled from the wound. One

of those who stood by reproached Erysichthon and
warned him that retribution would surely follow,
but the rash man struck him down, nor did even
the voice of the nymph of the tree move him. At
last the tree fell, and the Dryads besought Ceres to
punish the criminal.
Swift and terrible was the doom. Ceres sent an
oread in her own dragon-drawn chariot, to icy
Scythia, where Famine, and Cold, and Fear dwell.
Brought back in the chariot, Famine entered the home
of Erysichthon while he slept, folded her wings about
him, and breathed upon him. He awoke, raving
with hunger, which from that time was never satisfied.
All he had was spent in the vain attempt to still the
pangs of hunger, until he had nothing left but his
daughter, whom he sold into slavery. Escaping

to the sea-shore, she was changed by Neptune into
the form of a fisherman, and assured her owner, who
was pursuing had seen no one there but
her, that she
herself. When he had gone away she assumed her
proper form and returned home. Several times this
happened, Neptune giving her each time a different
shape, and at last, her father's hunger grew so great
that he began devouring his own limbs, and so
miserably perished.
A
very different story is that of Rhcecus, who,
seeing an oak just about to fall, carefully propped it
up. The oak was the home of a hamadryad, who
would have perished with the tree but for this timely
help. The nymph therefore thanked him, and asked
him to name his reward, and when the bold youth
asked for her love, she granted his request. He
promised undying constancy to her, and she told him
to return an hour before sunset, and in the meantime
she would send a bee to remind him of his vow.
Later in the day he was sporting with his companions,
and when the bee came he brusned it aside, injuring
it. Then he suddenly remembered, and hastened,
too late, to the trysting-place. But he saw no one
there, and the voice of the nymph told him that as
he had scorned and bruised her messenger, he had
shown that he had not the tender and sympathetic
heart which alone she could love, and he could never
see her more.
The wooing of Vertumnus, the god of gardens and
the seasons, had a happier ending. He loved the
beautiful Pomona, possibly because apple-trees are
a very desirable addition to gardens. This nymph
had often been wooed, by Pan, Sylvanus, and many,
by Vertumnus, but she had
of the satyrs, as well as
refused them all. Vertumnus assumed all the forms
appropriate to his changing seasons, and as plough-

man, haymaker, reaper, vine-dresser, fisherman,
and even warrior, he was still rejected.
At last he took on the guise of an old woman,
won her confidence by praising her fruit, especially,
her grapes, pointed out that the vine was lovingly
entwined round the elm-tree, and advised her to
cling to one of her many lovers, of whom Vertumnus
was specially praised.
Then he told her the story of the nymph who had
spurned her lover Iphis, and when in his despair he
had hanged and the nymph was watching
himself,
his funeral, the gods had turned her hard heart to
stone. Then the handsome god stood before her

without disguise, and at last she rewarded his per-
severance by him her hand.
giving
The Seasons showed such marked contrasts that
the Greeks invented a separate goddess for each, who
ranked among the minor divinities. They were
called Horse, and were three in number, for Winter,
as already mentioned, was not regarded as a season.

They were and joyous maidens, often repre-
gentle
sented as crowned with flowers and dancing in a ring,
as Spring, Summer, and Autumn succeed each other
in a cycle. Separately, the Hora representing Spring
was depicted crowned with flowers, the one of Summer
bearing a sheaf of corn, and that of Autumn with her
hands full of clusters of grapes and other fruits.
The Horae were also the deities of the hours, which
accounts for their helping to yoke the horses to the
chariot of the sun every morning and to unyoke them
in the evening. They were, in addition, connected
with the clouds, hence they were said to open and
close the gates of heaven, as when the gods wished
to pass from Olympus to Earth, or to return to their

celestial abodes ; they also poured down the welcome
rains, thus giving life to flowers and fruits.
CHAPTER YI DEITIES OF :
THE SKY AND AIR I

Description of Aurora Dawn and Sunset Story
:
of Tithonus the Cricket or Grasshopper Story of

:
Cephalus and Procris Story of the Dog, Tempest

Morning and Evening Stars the Hesperides and
:
the Golden Apples .ZEolus and the Winds Êneas

and the Winds Ulysses and the Winds
CHAPTER VI
Deities of the Sky and Air I
principal divinities who represented the

wonders of the Sky, Apollo and Diana,
1 the Sun-god and the Moon-goddess, have
already been dealt with, and Aurora, the Dawn-

goddess, has been mentioned in connection with
Apollo. In the older mythology the Dawn, Eos,
was the sister of the deified Sun and Moon. Like
them, Aurora is represented as rising out of the eastern
ocean and driving in her chariot across the sky.
She had the form a beautiful maiden, and is often
of
" "
described as rosy-fingered," or rosy-armed,"
a reference to the rosy light of dawn. In the poem
Hail, Smiling Morn, it is she
" Whose
rosy fingers ope the gates of day,"
ready for the appearance of the glorious sun. She

has .large wings, with plumage the tints of which,
like those of the
morning sky, are constantly changing.
On her forehead she bears a star, and in her hand
a torch, for her light is feeble in comparison with that
which is so soon to follow. As she passes, the plants
and flowers, refreshed by the morning dew, raise their
heads, and the cock has been represented as uttering

his early morning cry as a greeting to Aurora.
A curious story is told of Tithonus, the husband of
Aurora. Tithonus was a beautiful youth when

Aurora fell him and made him her
in love with
husband, and Zeus, at her request, bestowed on him

the gift of immortality. But Aurora forgot to ask
at the same time that he should have the other
attribute of the gods granted to him, that of eternal
youth. As time went on the goddess noticed that

her husband was growing older, and remembered
the mistake she had made, but it was too late.
Grey
hairs came, his strength decayed, and Aurora ceased
to love him, though he still dwelt in her palace, and
was fed and clothed like a god. As he grew very
old and decrepit, and his voice became feeble, she
grew weary of seeing him, and at length shut him up

in a distant room of the palace. At last she turned
him into a grasshopper.
It has been suggested that Tithonus is the sun,
in his early morning beauty, which is followed at
last by his weakening and final disappearance, while
the feeble and meaningless chatter of extreme age
are suggested by the chirping of the insect into which
the unfortunate husband was changed.
Deities of the Sky and Air 7 1
It seems natural that the Dawn should be repre-

sented as loving the rising sun, and another myth
has been explained in the same way her love
for Cephalus. Some suppose that as Cephalus
means head, he is the head or spring of the day, the
rising sun. The dawn of day often found Cephalus

on the mountains, following the chase, a sport of
which he was passionately fond. So Aurora fell in
love with him and carried him off.
But he had a young wife named Procris, to whom
he was devoted. Procris was a great favourite of
Diana, and was herself very fond of hunting, and the
goddess had given her two wonderful presents, a
dog which was so swift that it could outrun not only
all other dogs, but even the swiftest of the animals
of the chase, and a javelin, a short spear for throwing.
This was of an unknown wood, tipped with gold,
and whatever object it was aimed at it was certain to
strike, returning of its own accord to the thrower.
These she had given to her husband, who of course
prized them greatly.
When Aurora carried him off he was full of grief,
and begged her to allow him to return to his young

wife. The goddess tried to make him forget her,
but in vain, and at last she yielded to his entreaties
and allowed him to go. But she threatened him at
the same time that he should repent that he had ever
gone back to Procris. So he went back to his old
life, and again spent much of his time in hunting.

When wearied with the heat of the chase, he would
"
often lie down in a shady spot, and cry aloud, Come,
"
gentle Aura, and, most grateful, refresh me Aura
simply meaning a light breeze. But someone who
overheard him, thinking he was calling a nymph called
Aura, foolishly told Procris, who thought that he had
ceased to love her. So, determined to find out
whether it was true, she hid herself near a spot where
he often rested in the heat of the day. Presently
Cephalus came, laid himself down on the grass, and
called on the breeze.
Hearing this, Procris made a movement which

rustled the leaves of the bushes in which she was
hid. Cephalus, thinking the noise was made by a
wild beast lurking in the thicket, threw his javelin
with only, -too true an aim. A shriek came from the
bushes, and Cephalus, rushing to the spot, found his
beloved Procris mortally wounded. To his great
grief, she died in his arms, and the threat of Aurora
was Procris is supposed to represent the
fulfilled.
dew-drop, which sparkles so beautifully in the rays

of the morning sun that it is represented as being
beloved by it, and yet it owes its death to the rays
beneath which it disappears. For a similar reason
Procris is also beloved by the Moon-goddess.
Deities of the Sky and Air 73
The fate of the wonderful dog is told in another
story. The people of Thebes had fallen under the

displeasure of the goddess Themis, who sent a monster
to ravage their country. Not only were the cattle
devoured by it, but even their owners at times fell
victims to its ferocity. At

a great hunt was
last
arranged, in the hope of putting an end to the plague.

The hunters, among whom was Cephalus, with his
marvellous dog, Tempest, set nets and barriers round
the place where the monster was lying, but with a
light bound he sprang over them. Then they un-

coupled the dogs, which had been straining to get
loose, but the monster escaped them as easily as a
bird would.
Then Tempest was let loose, and shot off on the
tracks of the beast like a stone discharged from a
sling. Cephalus went to the top of a hill overlooking

the plain, and there watched the chase. Time after
time it seemed as if the monster must be caught,
but he avoided the snapping jaws and darted off in
another direction. Just as Cephalus was about to
try his javelin, he turned away his eyes a moment,
and when he looked again he saw two marble statues
in the midst of the plain you would think the one
;
was flying and the other barking in pursuit. Some

god had changed them, so that both should remain'
unconquered in this wonderful contest of speed.

The evening twilight is so like the dawn that
Aurora was associated with that also, and so she drove
her chariot across the sky immediately after, as well
as before, the god of day. She had a magnificent
palace on an island of the west, surrounded by beauti-
ful gardens and flowery meadows, where lovely
nymphs joined in graceful dances to the accompani-
ment of sweet strains of music. Very naturally,
Aurora was the mother of Phosphorus, the morning
star, and of Hesperus, the evening star, the beautiful
planets of dawn and twilight.

Hesperus, according to some accounts, became
king of the Western Land, and had a number of
beautiful daughters who were called the Hesperides.
Others say these were the daughters of Atlas, the
god who bears the vault of heaven on his shoulders,

and who became the mountain in the north of Africa
which bears his name. Helped by a dragon, these
maidens guarded the wonderful golden apples
(suggested gold-flecked sky of evening) which
by the
grew in their garden on a tree which had sprung
up in honour of the wedding of Jupiter and Juno.
Since the evening-star, when visible, is the first to
appear as the sun goes down, Hesper is

represented
as leading the stars, many of whom are his brothers,
as they come out to take their places in the sky.
The Greeks thought the winds belonged to the sky,
as well as to the earth, and as they had, of course,
no idea of the real distance of the stars, we find a
close connectionbetween them. It is a very common
thing for a wind to spring up in the morning, or the
evening, more so than at any other time, and so
JEolus, the wind god, was the son of Aurora. He
lived on the rocky island of JSolia, where, with his
six sons and six daughters, he feasted in his palace.
The winds were his sons, or at least the principal
ones. But he kept winds confined in caverns, and
let them loose when he thought fit,
though he obeyed
the orders of the greater gods.
Thus when JEneas, the Trojan hero, was sailing
to Italy to found a new kingdom after the destruction
of Troy, Juno,who bore enmity to the Trojan race,
determined to delay him and cause him suffering,
though he was fated to arrive safely in the end. So
she ordered Êolus to send Boreas and others of his
sons to vex the sea. A terrible storm arose, by which
the ships were driven towards the coast of Africa,
and j?Eneas thought his own ship alone had
survived.
But Neptune, hearing the uproar, was angry at
Juno'.s interference, rebuked the winds, sent them
back to Êolus, and calmed the sea. Some of the ships
had been driven ashore, but he got part off with his 1
trident, while others were launched again by Triton

and a sea-nymph, who heaved them off with their
shoulders.
Another story of JEolus and the winds is connected
with the hero Ulysses, one of the most famous of
the Greek leaders in the war against Troy. After
the fall of that city, which sent JEneas in search of
a new home, Ulysses, like the rest of the Greeks, set
sail for his own home. But having blinded the giant
Polyphemus, a son of Neptune, that powerful god
became his enemy, and though Fate did not permit
Neptune to destroy him, for he was destined to reach
his kingdom of Ithaca and his loving wife Penelope,
the resentment of the god was able to overwhelm

him with one disaster after another, and to keep him
wandering for many years. The story of the Wander-
ings of Ulysses, and the marvellous adventures he
met with, is told in the "Odyssey," one of the two
great works attributed to Homer, the other being

the " Iliad," which relates the events leading up to
the destruction of Troy.
During his wanderings, Ulysses came to the island

of -ZEolus, who treated him and men
with great
his
kindness and hospitality. When they left to continue

their journey, Êolus gave Ulysses a bag, fastened
with a silver string, in which he had confined the
winds which would have been dangerous to him,
and carried him out of the proper course. At the
same time, he ordered favourable winds to blow,
and the Greeks sailed away with every prospect of a
safe passage.
For nine days all went well, Ulysses at the helm,
but he could keep up no longer, and was compelled
to lie down and sleep. Then the crew fell to talking
of the mysterious bag, and at last made up their
minds that it must be full of treasure given to their
leader by their late host, and that Ulysses had kept
so silent about because he did not intend that they
it
should have any So they determined to help

share.
themselves, and one, more bold than his companions,

untied the bag. Out rushed the winds, and immedi-
ately all was in commotion. The storm raged
fiercely, and after being driven by the winds in all
directions, they found themselves back at the island

of JSolus. They besought him again to help them,
but he was so indignant that such a poor use had been
made of his former kindness that he refused.
CHAPTER VII: DEITIES OF
THE SKY AKD AIR II
The Wind - Gods
Eurus, Auster, Boreas and
:
Zephyrus The Wooing of Boreas Calais and

Zethes, Winged Sons of Boreas The Harpies :
Whirlwinds Conflict of the Harpies with the Sons

of Boreas Êneas and the Harpies Diana and her
Chariot Selene and Hecate : Witches Story of
Actaeon Story of Endymion The Rainbow-bridge
Iris Iris and Achilles Thaumas and Electra:
Electric Light
CHAPTER VII
Deities of the Sky and Air II
f ""^HE chief winds, the North,West, East and

South winds, were supposed to be produced
JL by special gods, whose characters were,
of course, shown in the nature of the winds themselves.
Eurus, the East-wind, and Notus or Auster, the

"
South-wind are not often heard of, but rude
Boreas," the rough, blustering North-wind, and
Zephyrus, the mild and gentle West-wind, are often
referred to by the poets.
The wooing of Boreas was quite in keeping with his
character. He fell in love with Orithyi'a, whose sister

Procris became the wife of Cephalus, both the sisters
being very beautiful maidens. But in spite of all

his entreaties, the father of Orithyia refused to give
his daughter to her rather terrible suitor. Then

Boreas fell into a rage, as was very usual with him,
and said : "I deserved this ; forup why did I give
my own weapons, my violence, my and my strength,

threatening spirit, and turn to prayers, which ill'
"
become me ? So, abandoning gentler methods,
81
he seized the trembling maiden, and, enfolding her
with his tawny wings, flew rushing over the tops of
the mountains to his palace in the far north, where
she became his bride.
Her twin sons, Calais and Zethes,had at first nothing
very remarkable about them, but as they grew up
wings appeared on their shoulders, and they were
able to fly with the swiftness of the wind. One of the
most famous of the old Greek stories is the expedition
of the Argonauts in search of the Golden Fleece.
Jason was the leader, and with him were a number
of heroes whose names often occur in the old tales.
During their wanderings in their ship, the Argo, they

met with many wonderful adventures, and in one of
these, which we will relate, the two sons of Boreas,
who were among the argonauts, were the chief
actors.
The sudden whirlwinds which sometimes do great
damage by their frightful violence, uprooting trees,
wrecking houses, and at times even whirling animals

and human beings to a distance, and dashing them to
the ground, are so very extraordinary that they gave
rise to the fable of the Harpies, fierce monsters each
of which had the body and claws of a vulture, but the

head of a fair-haired maiden. As the whirlwind
seems to devour everything, the Harpies are repre-
sented as being so voracious that they would swoop
down and snatch away the food placed before their
victims.Often when people were drowned, or
children lost, they were thought to have been pounced
upon by these monsters.

Phineus was a king of Bithynia, who had married
the sister of Zethes and Calais, but had treated her
very cruelly, and had put out the eyes of her two
sons. As a punishment, Jupiter sent the Harpies
to haunt him. On their journey, the Argonauts
came and a banquet was prepared for
to his land,
them, but before they could begin eating, down came

the monsters and carried the meat from the table.
Then Phineus beat his breast, and told his guests how
he and his people suffered from them, and that they
were almost starved, in spite of their wealth.
Then the two winged brothers rose and told Phineus
who they were, reminding him that his own wicked-
ness had brought this plague upon him. They
promised, however, that if he would treat their sister

and her children kindly in future they would do
battle with the monsters. Phineus gladly promised,
and afterwards kept his promise too, while Jason
cured the eyes of the two children by using magic

herbs.
So Calais and Zethes took leave of their comrades,
sprang into the air, and the battle of the winds began.'
The palace rocked with the fearful conflict, and
seemed as though it must fall about their ears ;
the
howling blasts tore trees and great rocks from the

mountains, so that even the heroes trembled. At
last theHarpies were defeated, and fled shrieking
towards the south, with the brothers in pursuit,
until they fell upon the islands at the mouth of the
Acheloiis, of which we shall hear again. These were

known for long afterwards as the Isles of the Whirl-
winds.
JSneas and his friends landed upon these islands
years afterwards, saw cattle roaming about, and

killing some of them prepared for themselves a feast.
No sooner had they sat down, than a flock of harpies
appeared, and with hideous noises carried off the food.

The warriors attacked them with their swords, but
they were so swift that it was almost impossible to
hit them, and when they did they found that their
feathers protected them like armour. Before they
flew away, one of the harpies foretold all sorts of
disasters which should befall the travellers.
The progress of the beautiful, silvery moon through

the heavens gave rise, as already mentioned, to the
myth Diana driving her brilliant chariot across the

of
sky, drawn by two white horses. These are not only

fewer in number, on account of the smaller size of the
moon, but her and heat being far inferior
brilliance
(in fact the moon gives off practically no heat at all),

they are not so fierce and unmanageable as the fiery
steeds which brought poor Phaeton to such an un-
timely end.
Not only were Selene and Diana confused together,
but Hecate, another moon-goddess first worshipped
by the Thracians, was confused with them. Now
as the Moon placed in the heavens, yet gives light
is
to the earth, and is also the queen of night and of
darkness, Hecate was said to bear rule in heaven, on

earth, and also in the under-world, the land of
shades. She was also represented as having three
bodies joined together. It is because of her triple
character that Shakespeare speaks of her in As you
"
Like It as thrice-crowned queen of night."
As time went on, the gloomy and awful character
of nightbecame most prominent in the idea of Hecate,
and she was said to dwell in the under-world, ruling
the ghosts and shades. So she became the goddess
of witchcraft and enchantment, and we find her
as the mistress of the three dreadful witches in
Macbeth.
As already mentioned, the crescent moon suggested
to the old Greeks a silver bow, which caused Artemis,
or Diana, to be represented as bearing a bow, and
devoted to hunting. The mystery of the shady groves
in the silvery moonlight gave rise to the idea that,'
after the chase, the goddess loved to gather the
nymphs of thewoods and springs who attended her,

and in such groves to join in the song and dance.
Believing that they might meet such supernatural
beings in the forest, people were very loath to venture
there at night, and represented it as a very dangerous
adventure to fall in with them at any time. The
story of Actseon illustrates this.
Actseon was a great hunter, who used to roam the
woods with his companions, accompanied by their
dogs. One day he rashly ventured into a glade
where Diana and her train were bathing in a stream.
The goddess, in anger, dashed some of the water over
him. Immediately horns began to sprout from his
head, his limbs became four slender legs, and to his
horror he found himself changing into a stag. His
dogs, not recognizing their master, sprang at him,

and he bounded away to escape from them. His
companions, seeing a stag burst from the thicket,
at once took up the chase, calling on Actseon to join
them in the sport, little thinking what a dreadful
part he was taking in it. He strained every nerve,

but it was of no use, the dogs closed in upon him and
at last pulled him down, and so he came to a dreadful
end.
The moon was a great friend to shepherds, who had
to guard their flocks by night against the attacks of
wild beasts, which were much more easily seen and
driven off when the moon was shining than when all
was in darkness. Perhaps that is the reason why
Diana is represented as falling in love with Endymion,

a beautiful youth who tended his sheep on Mount
Latmos. One night, looking down from the calm
sky,Diana saw Endymion sleeping on Mount Latmos,
and was struck with his beauty. She came down,
kissed him, and watched over him while he slept.
Night after night she visited him, until their love

was discovered.
Jupiter, to punish the presumptuous youth, gave
him the choice between death and perpetual sleep,
during which, if he chose the latter, he was to retain
his youthful form. He chose eternal sleep, and
Diana continued to visit him, sometimes lying down
by his side, at others watching over his flocks and
guarding them from beasts of prey. So we find,
in The Merchant of Venice, Lorenzo saying :
" and wake Diana with a hymn,"

Come, ho !
and a little later Portia says :
" moon
Peace, ho ! the sleeps with Endymion
And would not be awaked."
It probable that Endymion is really the setting

is
sun, upon which the moon is represented as looking
lovingly down for the moon may, of course, often

be seen well up in the sky before the sun has quite
disappeared but some think that he is the personi-

fication of Sleep.
Among the marvels of the sky, the Rainbow is so
striking, so beautiful, and so mysterious, that it is

no wonder it worked on the imagination of ancient
races. Some thought very naturally, the bridge
it,
leading to heaven. Among the Greeks it gave rise

to the goddess Iris, a beautiful maiden clothed in
an ethereal robe of delicate tints like those of the
rainbow, or of mother-of-pearl, a robe which sheds

brightness wherever she goes. Iris was the messenger
of the gods, as Hermes was also, and was frequently
sent on errands to earth, and even to the underworld,
both by Jupiter and by Juno, on whom especially
she waited. These errands she carried out with
great swiftness and success.
In the Trojan war, just before the fall of the city,
the Greek hero, Achilles, slew the Trojan prince
Hector, who was the son of King Priam and the chief
hope of Troy, and carried off his dead body. In
answer to the prayers of the grief-stricken king, Iris
was sent with him to the tent of Achilles, and helped

him to persuade that terrible warrior to give up the
body of Hector to his broken-hearted old father,

that it might receive the last rites with all due
honour.
Iris is represented as being the daughter of Thaumas
and of Electra, a lovely goddess who typified the
sparkling light of Electricity. Thaumas was a very
fanciful being, a good example of the readiness of the
Greeks to personify anything in Nature that struck
them as being very remarkable. He represented that
peculiar mirror-like condition of the sea when it is
specially smooth, and reflects with special clearness

the light of the sky and the objects on the shore.
Thus Iris and her parents are all connected with
peculiar light and beauty.
CHAPTER YHI: GODS
AND GODDESSES OF
THE OCEAN
Oceanus and the Rivers The Sea- Nymphs
Palace of Oceanus Neptune and his Chariot Ages
of Gold, Silver, Bronze and Iron The Flood:
Deucalion and Pyrrha The Earth Repeopled

Nereus and the Nereids Proteus and Aristoeus
The Bees Marriage of Thetis and Peleus Otus
and Ephialtes The Cyclops Polyphemus Acis
and Galatea Scylla and Chary bdis Adventure of
Ulysses Ino and the Sea-Birds
CHAPTER VIII
Gods and Goddesses of the Ocean

Sea is so full of wonderful things, and
THE
it with
so mysterious, that it was very natural
for the ancient races of the world to people
kinds of supernatural beings, both beautiful
all
and frightful. They realised that although the rivers

run into the sea, yet the water which fills them comes
from the So we find that the oldest god of the
sea.
waters, Oceanus, whose wife was Tethys, was the

father of three thousand rivers, or of the gods and
goddesses who lived in them, made them flow peace-
fully or rise in flood at will, and were spoken of as
though they were the rivers themselves.

Oceanus and Tethys also had many daughters who
were sea-nymphs, beautiful maidens who lived in the
caves in the depths of the sea, but who often sported
on the surface or played on the shore, or in the cool
grottosamong the rocks there. We can easily under-
stand how the faint wreaths of vapour which often
rise from the surface of warm seas, the foamy crests
of waves, or flying spray, quickly disappearing, or
93
perhaps only half seen in the darkness of the storm

or in the sunny distance, became supernatural objects
to people who had a strong belief in such things.
The palace Oceanus was beyond the bounds of
of
the earth, Homer tells us, and was surrounded by

beautiful gardens, adorned with all kinds of precious
things corals, amber, brilliant shells, and other sea-
treasures.
Oceanus was succeeded in the empire of the waters
by Poseidon, or Neptune, who was the brother of
Zeus, or Jupiter. The rivers also formed part of
his kingdom. Neptune had a splendid palace in
the depths of the sea, near the island of Eubcea,
though he often visited Jupiter and the other gods

on Olympus. His sceptre was a trident, a spear with
three prongs, with which he ruled the waves and the
storms. With it, too, he could shatter the rocks,
and sometimes called forth a spring by striking the
earth with it. His chariot was drawn over the
surface of the sea by horses with golden manes and
brazen hoofs, and their hinder part is often repre-
sented by the body and tail of a fish. Before his
chariot the sea became smooth, and dolphins and
other sea-monsters played around it as it was driven
swiftly along.
When Jupiter determined to destroy the world
on account of its wickedness, it was Neptune who
Neptune
Adam, Louvre 94
From a photograph by Levy et aes fils
Gods and Goddesses of the Ocean 95
carried out his will, and the Greek tradition of the
Deluge a very interesting one. We are told that

is
there were several Ages in the history of mankind.

The first was the Golden Age, in the far-back times
when Cronus was the ruler of the universe. Then
men were just and pious, worshipping the gods and
living in peace and happiness. The earth brought
forth abundantly without labour, and the gods
mixed freely among men. Then followed the Age
of Silver, when men were less perfect, and the earth
not quite so happy a place to live in. In the Bronze
Age strife and discord spread and wars were frequent,
though men were not yet altogether wicked.
But in the Iron Age men were steeped in crime ;
violence deceit, hatred and discord reigned.

and
Truth, purity and honour were cast aside, and the
gods withdrew from the earth. Then Jupiter would
have burned the world, but that such a great fire
might have destroyed Olympus itself, so he called
in the help of Neptune. The rivers raged in flood,
the waves of the sea broke their bounds and rushed
over the land. The rain fell incessantly, until the
earth was covered, and mankind had perished, except
Deucalion, a just man, and Pyrrha his wife, who were

dutiful worshippers of the gods, and they found
refuge
on Mount Parnassus.
When the waters had gone down, they were told
by an oracle, or message from the gods, to veil their
heads, and with unbound garments to cast behind

them the bones of their mother. They were horrified
at the idea of treating the remains of their parent
so irreverently, and greatly troubled, until the idea
came to Deucalion that there was a hidden meaning
"
in the oracle. Is not the Earth the mother of us
" "
all," said he, and are not the stones her bones ?
So they obeyed the command, throwing stones
behind them. These grew soft and gradually took
the shape of human beings, those thrown by Deucalion
becoming men, and those thrown by his wife, women.

So the earth was peopled again.
Neptune's wife was Amphitrite, one of the fifty
daughters of Nereus, who were therefore called

Nereids. He was one of the more ancient gods,
"
a kind of old man of the sea," and embodied some
of its characteristics. Thus the
sea, though always
changing its aspect, seems yet to be always the same.

So Nereus was famous for his love of unchanging
truth and justice. Like many other sea-deities he
had also the gift of seeing into the future.
Proteus, a son of Neptune, had also the gift of
prophecy, and he personified, too, the constant
changes of the sea, for he had the power to assume

any form at will. When he did not wish to let people
have the benefit of his wisdom, he would use his
power of changing his shape, so as to avoid them,
as in the following story.
Aristaeus was the son water-nymph named
of a
Gyrene, his father being Apollo. He had many

flocks and herds, and also kept bees. But all his
bees died from some disease, and he went to his
mother's river to ask her aid. She heard his voice
on the bank, and at her command the stream opened

to let him enter her crystal cave, the waters standing
up on each side. When he had explained his loss,
she told him to go to the aged Proteus, who watched

over the sea-calves of Neptune, and he could explain
how it had happened, and how to replace the dead
swarms.
But she also told him that he would have to chain
the god and compel him to answer, and that he would
"
change into dreadful forms so as to escape. But
you have only to keep him fast bound," she went on,
"
and when he sees that his arts are of no avail he
will do as you wish." Then she sprinkled her son
with nectar, which filled him with strength and
courage, and showed him where to hide in the sea-

god's cave.
At noon Proteus came up out of the sea, with his
herd of sea-calves, which stretched themselves on the
shore. Then he came into his cave and lay down
to sleep. Presently AristaBus rushed upon him and
bound him with a chain he had brought for the
purpose. Proteus awoke and struggled to get free,
changing himself into a fire, then a flood, and then a
dreadful wild beast, but the youth would not loose
his hold. Then he came back to his own shape, and
explained that the bees had been slain in punishment
of an evil deed committed by Aristaeus, and that he
must gain the forgiveness of the nymphs who had

done it. He was to build four altars, and sacrifice
four of his finest bulls and four cows, then, leaving
their carcasses hanging in the grove, he was to return
in nine days and see what had happened.
Aristseus did all that the god had said, and on the
ninth day he found that a swarm of bees were busily
at work, using one of the carcasses as a hive. The
ancients had the idea that bees came from the dead
flesh of animals. They were used to seeing them
make their nests in hollows, as in trees and rocks,
and probably the idea of their origin arose from seeing
a swarm using the body of an animal for the purpose.
The most beautiful of the Nereids, Thetis, had the
same power as Proteus. On account of her wondrous
beauty both Jupiter and Neptune sought her as a
bride, but as the Fates had foretold that she should
have a son who should be greater than his father,
it was decided that she should marry a mortal.
Peleus, one of the Heroes, was the one to whom the

honour was given, and he set forth to claim his bride.
She tried all her arts, changing into several terrifying
forms, to escape from her lover, but he was so strong
and bold that she had to yield.
The wedding was by a splendid feast,
celebrated
and the gods and goddesses of Olympus honoured it
with their presence. The marriage of Thetis, and
the adventures of her famous son, Achilles, are the
subjects of some of the most famous of the old Greek

stories.
Nothing seems more wild, fierce, and ungovernable

than the sea when it is lashed into fury by storms,
and so we find that most of the sons of Neptune had
such a nature. Two of these, Otus and Ephialtes,
when only nine years old, were twenty-seven cubits
high and nine broad, a cubit being about half a yard.
In the war of the giants against the gods, the two
brothers tried to scale the heavens by piling mountains
on each other. When they had heaped Ossa on
Olympus, and Pelion on Ossa, they were fortunately
slain by the arrows of Apollo, or there is no telling
what dreadful deeds they might have performed

if they had lived to grow up !
The Cyclops, who were the workmen in Vulcan's

workshop, of which Mount Etna acted as the chimney,
were also sons of Neptune. This shows clearly that'
the Greeks thought there was a connection between
ioo Old Greek Nature Stories
the fiery outbursts of that volcano and the neigh-
bouring sea. The cyclops were wild, gigantic beings,

each having only one eye, placed in the middle of his
forehead ; rough and uncouth in their behaviour,
and with no fear of the gods. The ancients might
well imagine such fearful beings responsible for the
terrifying outbursts of molten rock, steam-clouds,

stones, and ashes from volcanoes.
We should naturally expect to find, seeing how
many victims the sea claims, that some of the fabled

monsters were devourers of men. Polyphemus, one
of the cyclops, was such a character. On one occasion
he fell in love with a beautiful nymph, Galatea, and
made some attempt, for the first time, to trim his
uncouth locks, and make himself more presentable.
The maiden, however, favoured another lover, a
youth named Acis, and when Polyphemus found
them together he took a cruel revenge upon his rival
by casting upon him a huge rock. The blood of the
murdered lover gushed out from under the rock
and became a stream, which bears his name.
We may suppose that the fate of Acis was suggested
by that ofunhappy mariners mangled by rocks upon
the shore in some dreadful storm.
In the Strait of Messina, between Italy and Sicily,
were two dangerous obstacles which often proved
fatal to mariners, and therefore gave rise to dreadful
Gods and Goddesses of the Ocean i oi
legends. One was the rock Scylla, and the other,
not far from it, was the whirlpool Charybdis. At
certain states of the tide, especially with the wind
in certain quarters, currents wereformed which swept
round and round, and sometimes overwhelmed and
swallowed up ships and their crews. Scylla, too, with
the cruel jagged rocks lying near it, and the swift
currents which swept around and over them, often
brought mariners to their death.

We must remember that ships in those far-back
ages were far smaller than those we are familiar with,
in factwe should think the largest of them only large
boats. Unskilful steering, or a sudden gust of wind,
would sometimes cause a vessel, while trying to avoid
one of these dangers, to fall into the other. So when
a person now-a-days between two dangers, and it is
is
difficult to guard against one without running into

"
the other, we often say he is between Scylla and
Charybdis." Of course the dangers, as often
happens even now, were greatly magnified, and
dreadful stories were spread as to what took
place there.
Charybdis described as a frightful gulf, into
is
which, three times a day, the waters rushed with

dreadful roarings, carrying helpless vessels round and
round, and at length plunging them into the abyss.-
Three times a day, too, the gulf sent the waters
rushing back, with the mangled wrecks and corpses

that had been swallowed up. There is a spot off
the coast of Norway where a whirlpool is sometimes
formed by wind and tide, and in later ages travellers
told similar stories about this. There is an old
picture which shows this whirlpool like a huge funnel,
with helpless ships on the sloping sides being carried
round on their way to the bottom.
In the rock Scylla, so the story goes, there was a
cave, in which dwelt a terrible monster who gave her
name to the rock. She had six heads, each with a
long, snake-like neck, and her lower parts were made

up ofsnakes and howling, ferocious dogs. (The
howling of dogs, or the cries of any savage beast,

may easily be imagined during the raging of a storm).
The way which Scylla served her victims is shown
in
in the adventure of Ulysses and his crew, who had to
pass through the straits during their wanderings,

which have already been mentioned.
As they neared the fatal spot the howlings of
Charybdis filled their ears, but nothing was to be
seen of Scylla. So while they were anxiously watch-
ing the whirlpool they forgot Scylla, until the monster

suddenly stretched forth from her cave her six snaky
heads. Each seized an unfortunate mariner in its
jaws, while the rest looked on, powerless to help.

The suddenness of her attack is in keeping with the
danger of sunken rocks, unsuspected until the
moment when the doomed vessel strikes.
The story which accounts for the origin of Scylla
is rather curious, because such fearful transformations
are generally a punishment for evil deeds or an evil
nature, but it is not so in her case. She was a maiden

of great beauty, the daughter of a sea-god, and
another sea-god, Glaucus, fell in love with her.
She would not listen to him, but he was so eager to
win her that he asked the help of Circe, who was an
enchantress. But Circe was herself in love with
Glaucus, so by her magic arts she turned her rival

into the monster which has been described.
The beautiful white sea-birds, which stand on the
rocks by the sea-shore, and skim over the waters,
into which they dive at times in pursuit of fish,
seemed to the ancients to be ever seeking something
lost beneath the waves.This gave rise to an interest-
ing story, which accounts for the origin of two of their
many sea-deities.
Ino, wife of King Athamas, had offended the queen
of the gods. Juno therefore sent one of the furies
to afflict her husband with madness. In this con-
dition he imagined that Ino and her two children
were a lioness and her cubs, and killed one of the poor
children. Then Ino fled with the other in her arms, ,
pursued by her husband. Reaching the rocks of the

shore, she flung herself into the sea, but Venus per-
suaded Neptune to change them into sea-gods.
Some of her attendants, seeing the
queen disappear
in the waves, sprang from the rocks after her, but
were turned into birds, which skimmed over the

surface of the sea vainly trying to find her.
CHAPTER IX: STORIES
OF RIVERS
Tidal Bores Story of the Seine Story of Arethusa
: :
Disappearing Streams Deltas the Islands of

:
Acheloiis Conflict of Acheloxis and Hercules-

Snakes Strangled by Infant Hercules The Horn of
Plenty Sudden Floods : Conflict of Scamander
and Achilles
CHAPTER IX
Stories of Rivers
are many curious things which

in connection with rivers, the real
1 happen
reasons for which were not discovered
until long after these anci nt times with which we
are dealing, and the Greeks explained them, as they
did other mysterious things in Nature, in their own
fanciful way. One of these is the tidal bore, which
occurs in many and narrow bays.
rivers The waters
of the sea, as we know, under the action of the moon,
and to a extent of the sun, are piled up twice in
less
twenty-four hours, or thereabouts, at the places

passed in succession by the tidal- wave.
Whenthey sweep into a channel which becomes
gradually narrower, the effect becomes more and
more marked, especially when the opening faces the
incoming and the channel becomes shallower

tide,
as the wave rushes along. In some cases the tide
rushes in in a huge mass, so that the front of it forms
a wall of water. The Bay of Fundy shows this,
effect in a striking way, the tide reaching a height of
107
io8 Old Greek Nature Stories
70 feet, and the sight is a most wonderful one. Bores
even more, areôften seen on the
of 6 or 7 feet, or
Severn and the Seine, and a smaller one on the
Trent. These very much puzzled the ancients,
and they came to the conclusion that some sea-god
or river-god must be rushing up the river for some
purpose or other.
A story which arose in connection with the Seine
willshow the kind of legend that sprang up about
such rivers. The course of the Seine is very flat
the level at Rouen, 74 miles up the river, is only
19 feet above that at the mouth. Twice a day the
tide comes rushing in, heralded by a wall of water
advancing with a tremendous roar, and as fast as a

galloping horse. The sound can be heard several
miles away, and is the signal for the boats on the
river to put off from shore into deep water, where
experience has taught the owners they are safer.

When the wave reaches them, they are suddenly
liftedup and violently tossed about for a short
time amid foaming billows. Then the river becomes
almost as smooth as before, but several feet higher,
and with the stream running swiftly, not to the sea,
but towards the source.
The story goes that the Seine was a nymph, the
daughter of Ceres and Bacchus, who was one day
walking by the sea-shore when she was seen by the
Stories of Rivers 109
old sea-god, Neptune, who at once fell in love with
her and rushed to take possession of her. The nymph,

however, did not return his affection, and called on
her parents for aid. Just as the god overtook her,
they changed her into the river which now bears her
name (the old form of Seine was Sequana), and carries
joy and fertility through the lands beloved by her
parents. The flourishing vineyards and fruitful

fields show how Bacchus and Ceres loved the country
which is blessed by their daughter.

The love of Neptune* however, seems to have been
as violent and lasting as it was sudden, for he still
rushes in daily, with mad bellowings, hoping to
secure her. But she rushes back into the meadows,
?
contrary to the nature of rivers, and so escapes him.
Many of the peasants who live near the Seine hold,
even now, another kind of myth to account for the
marvel, for they, too, have a vague idea that the
elements have feelings, as human beings have. They
say that it is due to the natural ill-feeling between

saltwater and fresh, which are unwilling to mix,
and that the salt water gets angry, and tries to drive
the fresh water back.
When Ceres was wandering in search of her lost
daughter, she discovered in Sicily that her child had

been carried off, and laid a curse on the land in which '
this had been done. But as she was sitting by a

no Old Greek Nature Stories
stream, the goddess of it rose out of the waters.
" "
Goddess," said the guardian of the river, do not
be angry with thy faithful land, which does not
deserve thy wrath, for it opened when compelled to
let Pluto and his unwilling bride pass through. I
am Arethusa, and I dwell here as a stranger, for
Greece is the land of my birth. But I was carried
through the caverns beneath the sea, until I raised
my head under the skies of Sicily. While I was
running beneath the earth I saw thy daughter, and
though her face was sad she was without alarm,
for she is the wife of the Infernal Bang." So Ceres
at last knew what had happened to her beloved
daughter.
Arethusa promised to tell her how she came to
undergo such a marvellous change, that a river
which flowed in Greece should reappear in the island
of Sicily. So when Ceres was once more restored
to happiness she visited Arethusa again to hear the
story, which ran as follows. Arethusa was a beautiful

nymph, but disliked the praise of her beauty, and
would not that any should make love to her, for all
her thoughts were taken up with the delights of the
chase. She was a constant companion of Diana,
whose quiver she often carried.
But one day, as she stood by the river Alpheus, the
god of the river saw and loved her. Rising from

Flying Mercury
Giovanni di Bologna
Stories of Rivers 1 1 1
his waters, he besought her to be his bride, but

Arethusa The god pursued her over
fled in terror.
hill and
crag, and through the trackless woods,
but though she was as swift as he, she was not so
strong, and at last became exhausted. Then she
called on Diana to aid her, and the goddess cast a
thick cloud about her. But Alpheus would not
depart, and wandered about calling for her.
Then her protectress turned her into a stream,
but when he saw this the river-god resumed his
watery form, and sought to mingle his stream with
hers. But Diana made the ground
to open, and the
stream of Arethusa disappeared into the opening,
and so through underground caverns was carried
under the sea, as we have seen, to rise again in Sicily.
The Greeks had seen streams which were suddenly
lost in this way, and had wondered what became of
them, and very likely that this story arose

it is
through their finding in Sicily a stream which was

called by the people there by a name similar to that
of one of their own rivers.
Such disappearing streams are occasionally met

with in many countries, especially where the rocks
are of limestone, in which, by the action of water in
dissolving the rock, caverns are often formed. Those

who have seen the Peak Cavern, in Derbyshire, will
remember the underground stream along which
ii2 Old Greek Nature Stories
visitors can walk for some distance, until it dis-
appears. Some of the streams in the Pennine Chain
also travel underground for some distance, and then
re-appear.
It often happens that shoals and sandbanks are
formed at the mouth of a river by the sand and mud
carrieddown, and sometimes these appear above the
waves as islands, forming a delta. The old Greeks
saw that such must have been formed by the
islands
river, and so they invented an explanation for the

islands at the mouth of the Acheloiis, a river famous
for the stories connected with it. It so happened
that while some of these were barren and unlovely,
another, at a distance from the rest, was fertile and
beautiful, and we also find this difference accounted
for.
Theseus, the hero who slew the monster known as

the Minotaur, was once returning from a hunting
expedition to his home at Athens, when he came to

the river Acheloiis and found it in flood. The god of
the river, who of course bore the same name, there-
fore invited him, with his companions, to stay as a
visitor in his cave until the torrent had gone down
and he could and the invitation was
safely cross,
accepted. The cave was built of pumice stone, and
the floor was carpeted with soft moss, while the walls
and roof were decorated with rows of beautiful shells.
Tables were set, and bare-footed nymphs spread upon
them a banquet, .afterwards bringing wine in bowls
adorned with gems.
After the banquet, Theseus, looking out towards
the distant sea, asked whether he could not dis-
tinguish an island, or more than one, at the mouth

of the river. Acheloiis replied that there were
indeed five islands, and told him the following story
as to how they came there. They were once Naiads,
who slew ten bullocks, and made a sacrifice, to which
they invited the gods, of the neighbourhood, but

neglected to invite Acheloiis. So while they were
holding their joyous festival near the mouth of the
river, the god took vengeance on them for the dis-
respect they had shown him.

Gathering his waters, he rushed down in a raging
flood, tearing woods from woods, and fields from

fields, and finally tore away the spot where the Naiads
were holding their feast,and hurled both land and
nymphs into the sea. So the land and the nymphs
perished together, and the five islands were all that
remained of them.
Then Acheloiis pointed out to his guests that there
was a. beautiful island at some distance from the
others, and told them that that also was once a
beautiful nymph. Acheloiis loved her, and she
returned his love, but her father was opposed to
H
ii4 Old Greek Nature Stories
them, and in his anger flung his daughter from the
rocks into the sea. But theriver-god received her,
and bore her up as she swam away from the land.
Then he prayed to Neptune, the great ruler of the
ocean, to allow her an honoured place in his waters,
and the prayer was granted. She grew hard and cold,
earth covered her body and limbs, trees and flowers
sprang up on the fast growing earth, and she was

fixed in the sea in the form they now beheld.
One of the guests refused to believe that such
changes of form were possible, for he was a despiser

of the gods, but Acheloiis assured him that he himself
had the power changing into different shapes,
of
though only a few, appearing sometimes as a snake,

sometimes as a bull, with enormous strength in his
horns. Then he sighed and looked sad, whereupon
Theseus asked him the reason. The god replied that
it was not a pleasant thing to speak of his own
defeats, but as it was glorious to have fought against
such a hero as had overcome him, he would tell them
of his conflict with the mighty Hercules.
Years before, he had fallen in love with the beautiful
Deianira, and had asked her father for her hand.

But there were other suitors, among them the
demigod Hercules, the son of Jupiter. The father
promised to give her to the one who should prove
the bravest of her suitors, when the rest at once
withdrew their claim, leaving Hercules and Acheloiis
to settle the matter between them. A terrific
conflicttook place, for the god was of vast size and
strength, but he had Hercules for his foe.
Long and fiercely they wrestled, but at last Hercules
got a grip of the neck of the river-god, and pressed
him down upon the sand. Then Acheloiis used his
power to change himself into a snake, and twist-
ing his body into winding folds, darted forth his

forked tongue with dreadful hissings. But Hercules
"
laughed, saying, It was the labour of my cradle
to conquer snakes." This referred to two great
snakes which were sent to destroy him when he lay
as an infant in his cradle, but Hercules seized one
in each hand and strangled them. He reminded his
opponent, too, that he had slain the Hydra, although
for every snaky head he had cut off two new ones
grew. Then, seizing him by the neck he began to

strangle Acheloiis, who was obliged to turn into his
other form, that of a huge bull.
But Hercules, seizing him by his tremendous horns,
bent his head to the ground, and in the struggle tore
one of them off. So the conflict ended, and Deianira
became the bride of the victor. The horn thus torn
offwas consecrated to the goddess of Plenty, and
may often be seen, in pictures or carvings, filled to
overflowing with all kinds of beautiful fruits.

1 1 6 Old Greek Nature Stories
The mountainous nature of parts of Greece
many
and Asia Minor has a peculiar effect on the character
of the rivers, which can also be noticed in our own
country under similar conditions. The rains of

winter fill the beds of the streams with rushing
torrents, while in summer the wide, shingly channels
are nearly dry. Even in summer, a heavy thunder-
storm among the mountains, of which the people in
the plains below may know nothing, will often,
almost without warning, send a flood roaring down,
overwhelming any cattle or human beings who may
be caught unawares.
Such sudden, raging floods were put down to a fit
of anger on the part of the deity of the river, an idea
well illustrated by a famous incident in the siege
of Troy. Achilles, after the death of his friend
Patroclus, wreaked on the Trojans so that
his fury
they fled before him, leaving many a hero lying dead

on the field, victims of the avenging arm of the
greatest of the Greeks. Among others, Achilles
slew one of the sons of Priam, King of Troy, and
threw his body into the river Scamander, with
insulting words.
The god of the river, which was now choked with
dead bodies, was favourable to Troy, which had
long paid honours to him, and he called on Achilles
to desist from the slaughter. As he refused, the god
attacked him with the utmost fury, pouring his waves,
laden with dead bodies and with wreckage brought
down by the flood, upon the hero. Achilles struggled
long to escape from the buffetings of the river, which

surrounded him whichever way he turned.
Then Scamander called upon a brother stream
for aid, and both rivers attacked the hero, who,
tossed and bruised, appealed to the greater gods.
Neptune and Minerva came to his help, but the

enraged river-god refused to cease his attacks, until
Vulcan came on the scene, and with his flames so
scorched the gods and dried up their waters that they
were compelled to beg for mercy.
The sudden floods above described often fall
almost as rapidly as they rise, and it is not surprising

that, on this occasion, the disappearance of the raging
torrents should be ascribed to the interference of
the god of fire, as being the element most hostile
to water.
CHAPTER X: STORIES
OF ANIMALS-I
Origin of these Stories The Wolf: Lycaon
Were-
wolf and Loup-garou The Lynx: Lyncus The
Apes Midas and the Ass's Ears Story of Pan
and Syrinx: Pan's Pipes The Great and Little
Bears: Calisto and Areas
CHAPTER X
Stories of Animals I
Greeks, finding that many animals had
THE evil qualities very like those found in some
human beings, explained the fact, as

have seen, by supposing that they were at first
we
men
and women, but had been changed into the form of
beasts as a punishment for their wickedness. In
some however, the change of form into that of
cases,
a beast or a bird was sent in mercy, to save those so
changed from a worse fate, but the character of the
person changed was always preserved, to some
extent, in the new form. In the present chapter
you will read some of the stories suggested by the
peculiarities of animals.
The Wolf is a fierce and cruel animal which in
many countries has been a great enemy to man,
carrying off his sheep and other animals, and at times,

when made bold by hunger, attacking not only
horses and cattle, but even man himself. Children,
indeed, have been often carried off by them. Not
only among the old Greeks, but in all parts of
121
Europe, we find the idea of men being turned into
wolves.
The loup-garou of the French, and the werewolf
of our own forefathers, were frightful beings, men in
wolf-shape, who were more cruel and bloodthirsty

than ordinary wolves. In some stories men had
power to take this form, especially at night, and
roamed in search of victims.
When Jupiter, in the old Greek story, was announc-
ing to the assembled gods that he had determined
to punish the wickedness of mankind by destroying
the race, he told them of the guilt of Lycaon and its
punishment.
One evening, just as twilight was darkening into
night, the king of the gods came to the abode of
Lycaon, King of Arcadia, and bade the people pay
their adorations to him. As they were doing this,
Lycaon mocked at them, and said to himself that he
would put it to the proof whether this was really a
god or no. So he arranged to murder his guest while
he slept under his roof. Not content with this,
he slew a hostage who was in his hands, and having
boiled parts of his flesh and roasted other parts, he
set these on the table as dishes for the god.
But Jupiter, in his anger, caused his house to be

devoured by avenging flames, and the wicked king
woods. Yet though his nature was the
fled to the
Stories of Animals 123
same, form had changed. His garments had
his
turned into hair, and his arms had become legs.

He was hoary, as before, his eyes were bright,
still
and his changed features still expressed the same

ferocity. Attempting to speak, he howled aloud,
and with his old delight in blood he savagely attacked
the sheep. Thus he was turned, for his crimes, into
a wolf, and has the same nature as himself.
his race
The story of the Lynx is

very similar. This
cowardly animal rarely dares to attack men, but

prowls noiselessly about by night seeking for defence-
less prey. Here, again, the beast shows the qualities
of the man who was changed into this form. You
will remember how Ceres promised that the child
Triptolemus should bring blessings to men. When he

had grown up to be a young man, she sent him in
her chariot, drawn by two dragons, to take the seeds
she gave him to different nations, and teach them how
to plant them and grow bountiful harvests.
In his journey he came to the coast of Scythia,
where Lyncus was king. Entering the king's house,
he told who he was, and how he had travelled there.
" "
I bring the gifts of Ceres," said he, which, scattered
over the wide fields, are to yield you the fruitful
harvests, and wholesome food." But Lyncus was

envious, and could not bear the thought that his
people should have to thank a stranger for such great
1
gifts.So he determined to slay him while he slept,

and to make out that it was he who had bestowed
such a boon on his people.
Hetreated Triptolemus with great hospitality,
however, for he was too cowardly to attack him
while he could defend himself, and led him to a room
where he made him comfortable for the night. But
when his guest was fast asleep, Lyncus crept into the
chamber with a drawn sword to kill him. Ceres,
however, was watching over her favourite and
messenger, and just as the wicked king was about to
plunge the sword into the breast of the sleeping
stranger, dropped from his hand. Falling on all-
it
fours, he found that he had become a wild beast,

and rushing from his palace he roamed the woods
for the future as a lynx.
Of all the lower animals the Apes are most like
human beings in form, and, as we might expect,
there is an account of their human origin. There was
a race of men called Cercopians, who lived, according
to one account, on an island near Sicily, according
to another, in the north of Africa. These people
were guilty of dreadful crimes, treating any travellers
who came to their land in a most barbarous fashion.
Truthfulness was unknown among them, and they
would steal whatever they could lay then- hands upon,
while trickery and deceit seemed natural to them.
One writer says that when their punishment fell
upon them they were about to insult Jupiter himself,
as he came among them to see how they would
receive him. Be that as it may, the Father of the
Gods determined to make them look like men, and
yet horribly unlike them. So he contracted their
limbs, and flattened their noses, bent back from their
foreheads ; while he furrowed their faces with the
wrinkles of old age. He also took from them the
power of language, which they had used so often
for falsehood and perjury, so that they could only
make harsh jabberings, and covered their bodies
with long yellow hair. Then he placed them on
the islands which were called from them the
Pithecusse, or islands of the apes. So now we under-
stand why monkeys are so full of mischievous
tricks, and are so fond of snatching at anything
within reach.
The Ass looked upon, justly or unjustly, as a
is
stupid animal, and this idea was evidently shared by

the Greeks, as the story of Midas shows. You will
remember how Midas foolishly asked that everything
he touched might be turned into gold, and how the
fatal power, fortunately for him, was taken from him.
But we are told that his stupidity still remained, and

was fated again to prove an injury to him, and this ,
is how it came about.

The god Pan had invented a musical instrument
by fastening together with wax a number of hollow
reeds, side by side. These he cut of different lengths,
and stopped one end with wax. Then, on blowing
across openings, music was produced. This
the
instrument is called the syrinx, or Pan's pipes, and
used to be a favourite one with showmen, indeed it is
still often used in connection with the "Punch and
"
Judy show. The story of the way in which Pan's
pipes came to be invented is a very interesting

one.
There was a certain Syrinx who was
nymph named
one of the band of Diana, and, like her companions,
so devoted to the joys of the chase that she turned a
deaf ear to all lovers, though often sought by the
spirits of the wood. One day Pan met her, and tried
to woo her, paying her compliments, and
many
telling her she was as beautiful as the goddess of the
silver bow. But Syrinx fled from him, and the god
pursued her. Reaching the bank of a river, she
saw that she could not escape from her pursuer,
and called on the nymphs of the river to help
her.
Just as he thought he had caught her, and threw
his arms around he found himself clasping a
her,
group of reeds, into which the nymphs had changed

her. He sighed with disappointment, and the air,
passing through the reeds, made mournful music.
The sound suggested an idea to the god, and
"
saying, Thus, at any rate, you shall be mine,"
he cut a number of the reeds of different lengths,
and made the instrument which he called by her
name.
Pan was very proud of his music, and warbled
little melodies to groups of admiring nymphs. He was
evidently not a very good judge, for he thought it
was better than the music of Apollo's lyre, and
challenged the god to a, trial of skill. The mountain-
god Tmolus was to be the umpire, and the nymphs
and others, among whom was Midas, stood around
to witness the contest. Pan was the first to
try his skill, and brought forth from his reeds
a pleasing tune, which especially delighted
Midas.
Then Apollo stepped forth, his brows crowned with
laurelfrom Parnassus, the mount beloved of the
Muses, and his purple robe sweeping the ground.
In his left hand he held his lyre, adorned with
ivory and gems, while his right hand held the
plectrum. Then, striking the strings, he made the
air resound with strains of such wonderful sweet-
ness that Tmolus at once proclaimed him the
victor.
All received his verdict with applause except

Midas, who complained that it was unjust. What
followed is by the old
told very quaintly poet who
"
tells the story. But Apollo does not allow his stupid
ears to retain their human shape but draws them out
:
to a length, and he fills them with grey hairs, and

makes them unsteady at the lower part, and gives
them the power of moving. The rest of his body is
that of a man ;
in one part alone is he condemned
to punishment ; and he assumes the ears of the
slowly-moving ass."
Midas was, of course, very much ashamed of this
mark of disgrace, and tried to hide it with the folds
of a purple turban. But the monstrous ears could

not be hid from the servant who cut his hair, though
he was threatened with death if he revealed the secret.
The keeping silent about such a marvellous

trial of
discovery was so great, that the barber felt he must

relieve his feelings in some way. So he went out into
the fields, dug a hole in the ground, and whispered
"
into it, The king has the ears of an ass " When !
he had said this several times he filled in the earth
again, burying the secret, and went away feeling more

satisfied.
But a thick group of reeds began to grow on the

spot, and when, a year later, they were fully grown,
they betrayed the barber. For the gentle South
wind moved over them and set them whispering, and
they spread abroad the secret that had been buried
there.
The story of the two Bears is not due to any bear-
like qualities in those who were changed into that
shape, but, as we shall see, it offers an explanation of

a well-known fact connected with the stars.
Calisto, the daughter of that Lycaon who was

turned into a wolf, deeply offended Juno, who
changed her into a black bear. She lifted up her

hands, such as they were, to heaven (an attitude
very common in the b.ear) to ask for help, but she
could only utter groans, and no relief was sent in
answer. She had often hunted the bear, as well as
other animals, in happier days, but now she shunned
the wild beasts, for she still remembered what she
had been, and dwelt in fear of them. Often she
prowled sadly around her old home by night, and
often fled in fear from the baying hounds.
So the years passed by, very sadly for poor Calisto,
until one day she saw her son Areas, grown to be an
active and daring youth, and as fond of hunting as
his mother had 'been. Forgetting in her love, and
her joy at seeing him, the form which she now bore,
she gazed upon him, and advanced with outstretched
arms to embrace him. The young man did not, of
course, recognise his mother in her savage form, and, ,
thinking that the beast was about to attack him,

raised his javelin to kill her. But Jupiter would not
allow such a dreadful thing to happen as that the
mother should be slain by her own son, so just as
Areas was about to strike the fatal blow, the god
turned him also into a bear.
Then, to compensate them for their misfortunes,
he turned them both into constellations, or star-
groups, and placed them on high amid the stars.
But when Juno saw the great honour that had
been given to her whom she hated, and to her son,
she was filled with anger, and went to her foster-
parents, Oceanus and Tethys, in their watery realm.

" "
See," said she, how I am treated ;
I who am
supposed to be the Queen She whom
of the Gods.
I forbade to wear human shape has been made a
goddess and my punishment has been turned into

;
an honour. When night has made the world dark,
you will see in thesky new stars which are an insult

to me. If
you have any sympathy for your foster-
child, forbid my enemy and her son to rest in your
waters."
Her request was granted, and the Great and the
Little Bear are condemned to wander around the
sky for ever, never coming to rest, as other stars do,

in the cool waters of ocean. The Great Bear, or
Ursa Major, the group of stars known also as The
is
Plough, or Charles' Wain, while the Little Bear, or

Ursa Minor, is the group in which the Pole Star is
situated. These stars do not rise and set, as the
great majority of the heavenly bodies do, but can be
seen at night in any part of the circles in which they
seem to travel round the pole.
CHAPTER XI STORIES :
OF ANIMALS II
The Dolphin :Adventures of Bacchus and Arion
Bats Daughters of Minyas Frogs
: : Peasants of
Lycia The Newt : Abas The Spider : Arachne
Origin of the Olive and Horse Ants : The
Myrmidons Psyche and Cupid
CHAPTER XI
Stories of Animals II
"^HE Dolphin is a curious animal of the whale

family, which drew the attention of sailors
1 in very early times. It is about six or
eight feet long, the thickest part being near the
middle. It a powerful swimmer, and herds of
is
these creatures may often be seen gambolling on the

surface of the sea and playing around ships, as though
delighting in the company of men. They fling
themselves out of the water to such a height, that
they have been known to fall on the decks of vessels.

There has always been an idea, too, that they are
fond of music, and give signs of their delight by their
movements, and by following vessels, when they
hear it.
They were great favourites with the ocean-gods,

and, as we have seen, are represented as playing
joyously around the car of Neptune when he journeyed
over the waves. With such habits, it is not surprising
that we find the story of sailors being turned into
dolphins by the power of the god Bacchus.

136
The crew of a certain ship, who were rough fellows,
half pirates, found on the isle of Naxos, where they
landed to take in water, a beautiful youth, apparently
overcome by wine, so they carried him on board,
intending to sell him as a slave. After a while the
youth, who was really the god Bacchus, and was only
mocking them, pretended to rouse himself, asking how
he came there, and what they were going to do with
him. One of them told him not to be afraid, but to
tell them to what port he wished to be taken, where-
upon he asked them to go to Naxos, which they

should find would be a very hospitable land for them.
Then they swore by all the gods to do as he wished.
The steersman, who had already reproached them
for their wickedness,would have steered them back
to Naxos, but the rest prevented him, and one of
them took the helm himself, to direct their course
away from the island. The god, then, pretending
to weep, besought them to fulfil their promise, but
they mocked him, and with sail and oars hastened on

their course. But swift punishment fell upon them ;
the ship suddenly stood still in the midst of the waters;
ivy, thick with leaves and clustering berries twined

The god himself stood
round the oars and the mast.
among them, crowned with clusters of grapes, and
brandished a lance covered with vine leaves.
A rapid change came over the treacherous sailors ;
they grew black, their limbs shrank into fins, and their
hardened skin was covered with scales. One by one
they leaped into the sea, and played around the ship,
tossing their bodies as if in
sport, and blowing the
water from their wide nostrils. All except the
steersman had been turned into dolphins.
terrified
But to him the god spoke kindly, and told him to

steer forNaxos, where they quickly arrived, and
where the steersman became a favoured attendant
of Bacchus.
Another story connected with the dolphin is that of
Arion, who was a famous singer and played with
marvellous skill on the lyre. Travelling in Italy and
Sicily he gained great renown, and also wealth, with
which he embarked for his native Corinth. But the
sailors of the ship, rilled with greed, determined to
cast him into the sea and take his wealth for them-
selves. When
they told him to prepare for death,
he asked as a favour that he might sing one last song,
and, glad to hear such a famous musician, they agreed.
Standing on the deck, he sang a dirge, accompanying
himself on the lyre, and then threw himself overboard.
But he did not perish, for a dolphin, charmed by
his music, bore him on his back and carried him to
land. Then he went to Corinth, and made known
to the King how he had been treated, so when the
sailors arrived they were asked what had become of
their passenger. They explained that he had
stayed behind at one of the ports at which they
had called, when Arion suddenly stood before
them. In terror they confessed their guilt, and
were punished.
Those curious little creatures, the Bats, were
familiar to the Greeks, as they are to us, and were
often found taking up their abode in ruined buildings,
hiding during the day, and flitting silently forth at

night. They also frequented the vines, and were
often found hiding in the thick-growing ivy. All
these habits, and the squeaky little voices of the
bats, are referred to in the following story, to which

they perhaps gave rise.
Once a festival was proclaimed in Bceotia in honour
of Bacchus, and at the bidding of the priests the
women, both mistresses and maids, laid aside then*

work, bound their hair with garlands, and went forth
to join in the song and dance. But the daughters
of Minyas, the king, refused to acknowledge the god,
or to join in his worship, and went on with their
work, with their maidens, carding the wool, or spin-

ning the threads with their fingers, or weaving the
cloth ;
for these were the duties of even the highest
ladies in the land.
" "
While others are idling," said one, and hastening
to these foolish rites, let us, who serve Minerva, go on
with our useful labours, and lighten our work by
telling stories." So they took it in turn to tell
stories, until the light faded, and night began to fall.
But Bacchus had marked their contempt for his

festival, and now visited it with a dreadful punish-
ment, nor did Minerva, though she took delight

in useful arts, save the maidens from his wrath.
Suddenly, music filled the house, the sound of the

tambourine, the pipe, and the horn ; while the myrrh
and saffron shed around their odour all these things
belonging to the rites of Bacchus.

Then more wonderful things happened ; the cloth
in the loom grew green, and began to put forth
leaves like ivy. Part turned into vines, and what
were threads before, now became vine-shoots, while
bunches of purple grapes shone amid the foliage.
The house shook, and seemed to be filled with glowing
torches, while the howlings of invisible beasts were

heard.
The sisters, ran through the smoking
terrified,
house in search of a hiding-place, but suddenly their
limbs and bodies grew small, and though they had
no feathers, thin transparent wings stretched over
their limbs and bore them up. They tried to cry out
in their fear, but could only make a
tiny squeaking
sound, small even in proportion to their little bodies.,
They were turned into bats, but they still continued
to haunt the houses, and flew abroad by night, being
afraid of the light.
Another old story tells how Latona, the mother of
Apollo and Diana, wandering with her infant children,
trying to escape from the persecutions of Juno, came
in her travels to the land of Lycia. The weather_was
very hot, her children were a heavy burden, she was

weary with her long journey, and parched with
thirst. As she wandered through a valley, she came
to a clear pool, where peasants were gathering osiers
and bulrushes.
Thankfully she knelt down by the edge of the pool
to quench her thirst, intending to raise the water in
her hand, but the hard-hearted peasants drove her
" "
away. Why do you deny me water ? said the
"
goddess. The use of water is common to all.
Nature has made neither sun, nor air, nor the running
stream the property of any one." In vain she told
them how faint and weary she was, and appealed
to them for the sake of her little ones to allow her to
drink. The wretches replied only with jeers, and
threats of violence she did not go away. Then,
if
to make impossible for her to drink, they stirred

it
up the mud at the bottom with their hands and feet,
jumping about in the water and mocking her.

Then the anger of the goddess was roused against
the hard-hearted barbarians, and Jjfting up her
"
hands to heaven she said May you
: live in that
pool for ever." The wish of the goddess came to pass.

Their backs are united to their heads, their necks
seem cut off, their
is
green, and their
backbone
As they grew smaller, they
bloated bodies white.
became more and more ugly. Even yet do they
strive to utter abuse, although they are beneath
the water. Their voice is now hoarse, and their
bloated necks swell out ;
then* very abuse swells
their deformed jaws. Now
they go beneath the
water, and now swim on the surface often they ;
sit on the bank of the pool, but soon plunge again
beneath the cold stream.

Thus the old poet describes the frog, and accounts
for its origin, while that of the Newt is very similar
to it. When Ceres was wandering in search of
Proserpine, she also, on one occasion, suffered very
much from thirst. Coming to a thatched cottage,
she knocked at the door, when an old woman came
out. The goddess asked for water, but the old
woman gave her a sweet drink, which she had made
from parched barley, and Ceres, being very thirsty,
drank freely.
While she was drinking, Abas, or Stellio, a boy of
bold and impudent look, who was standing by,
laughed at her, and called her greedy. Offended at'

the insult, the goddess threw the remainder of the
liquor, with the barley, over the boy, and a sudden
change took place in him. His arms became legs,
a tail grew from his body, his skin was spotted and
stained with the liquor. So that he might not be
able to harm others, his size was diminished till he
was less than a small lizard. The old woman,
astonished, tried to touch the new marvel, but he
fled from and sought refuge under a stone.
her,
One account says that the boy thus punished was the
old woman's son, but for the credit of the goddess we
will hope that it was not so, for it would have been
a poor return for her kindness. Ever since that time,

the newt tries to hide himself, in shame.
The story of Arachne arose through the wonderful
skill displayed by the spider in making its web.
The fineness of its threads surpasses anything that
can be made by human spinning, and the web is a
wonderfully beautiful and delicate piece of work.
In ancient times the spinning and weaving of wool and
flax were carried on at home, and this work, with the
making of clothes, formed a very important part of

the duties of the female part of the household. Even
ladies of the highest rank, as we have seen, did not
think this work beneath them, but took great pride

in turning out fine, even threads, and weaving them
into beautiful patterns.
Arachne was a maiden who excelled in these arts,
43
and also in embroidery, another favourite occupation.
She made such beautiful fabrics, and adorned them
with pictures so wonderfully life-like, that even the
nymphs would come to watch her at her work.

But the praises she was constantly receiving filled
her with pride and conceit. When one of her ad-
mirers, thinking to pay her a great compliment, said
that Minerva must have taught her, she was quite
indignant, and said she would not be afraid to
challenge even the goddess herself to a trial of

skill.
Now Minerva, who, as you know, was one of the

greatest of the immortals, was the goddess who
presided over the domestic arts, including those in
which Arachne was so clever, and was, of course,
matchless in wisdom and in skill. She heard the
boast, and determined to punish the maiden's pride
and impiety, but not without giving her a chance to
withdraw her wicked words. She therefore appeared
to her, in the form of an old woman, pointed out to
her the sin of which she had been guilty, and
advised her to ask the forgiveness of the offended
goddess.
Arachne, however, scoffed at her words, and
repeated the challenge, when Minerva suddenly
dropped her disguise, and revealed herself in her
true character. All but Arachne were filled with
awe, but the foolish maiden was so confident in her
skill that she would not withdraw her words.
The goddess then began to weave, and the coloured
threads of the wool were blended into a wonderful
set of pictures. In the centre appeared the chief
deities of heaven, each to be distinguished by his
likeness Jupiter himself seated in majesty in the
midst. In the ancient days both Minerva and
Neptune had laid claim to Athens, and it was decided
that the city should be given to the one who produced
the more valuable gift to mankind. The sea-god
struck the earth with his trident, and from the
opening thus made there rushed forth the swift and

beautiful horse ; Minerva struck the ground with her
spear, and caused the olive-tree to spring up, with its

green berries. It was judged that Minerva had given
the better gift, and the city thus won was called after
her name of Athene.
The picture now growing under the skilful fingers
of the goddess, therefore, showed Neptune with his
trident, with the horse springing forth ; herself
also, with the olive tree, and the gods admiring it.
Then, to warn Arachne not to rush upon her fate by

persisting in the contest, she pictured, in the four
corners, four scenes of mortals who had brought upon
themselves punishment by daring to contend with
the gods. The wool, dyed in brazen vessels, was so
well chosen that the colours blended into each other
perfectly, and no mortal art could equal the work

of the goddess.
But Arachne would not be warned, and began to
weave in her turn. What made matters worse was
that she chose for her subjects such deeds of the
gods as had not been to their credit. She excelled

however, in the beauty of her work, and even
herself,
Minerva could find no fault with it. When she
pictured Europa carried off by Jupiter, in the form
of a bull, across the ,sea, it looked almost like real
water, and a real bull, and so with the rest.

Minerva was so angry at the insult to the gods,
and also at the success of the work, that she tore
the web, and struck her rival on the forehead with the
boxwood shuttle. The high-spirited Arachne could
not bear this treatment, and hanged herself with
the yarn she had spun. But Minerva bore her up,
"
saying, Live on, wicked one, but still hang." Then
she sprinkled her with the juice of aconite, and
condemned her and her descendants for ever to spin
and weave in the form of spiders.
The Ants, like the spiders, show marvellous skill.
The way in which they work together in ant-cities,
building their homes, sharing their work, storing up
food, and in other ways providing for the future and
caring for then* offspring, makes them seem almost

endowed with reason, like human beings. These things
roused the wonder and admiration of the ancients, as
they do ours, and a story sprang up in which, unlike

most of these myths, ants were turned into men.
The island of .ZEgina fell under the displeasure of
Juno, who sent such a dreadful plague upon it that
first the cattle, then the country people, and lastly
those who lived in the city, sickened and died. Only

the king, JSacus, and his son were left. JSacus was
the son of Jupiter, and in his despair he called on
his father either to restore his people or to let him
also die. Close
by stood a great oak, sacred to Jove,
and on it were crowds of ants busily working. Look-
ing on them, and admiring then' numbers and their
industry, he besought his father to give him such a
band of subjects, to take the place of those he had
lost. A rustling sound was heard among the leaves,
but nothing else
happened.
That night, while he slept, the king dreamed that
from dropped to the ground in great
this tree ants
numbers, grew larger and larger, and at last became

men. When he awoke, he heard voices outside the
temple in which he had been sleeping, as of a multi-
tude, but thought he must be still dreaming, until
his son called him to look at the wonderful sight.
There he saw, with amazement, great crowds of people,
who came to do homage to him, and hailed him as
j
Psyche
Harry Bates 146
By Permission of Mr. Frederick Hollyer
their king. Joyfully he returned thanks to the king
of gods and men, and set to work to divide the land
among them. From their origin they were called

Myrmidons (ant-descended), and we are told that they
were an obedient and diligent race, eager for gain,
and given to hoarding up their gains. These are
just the qualities we should expect from a people
produced from ants.
The Butterfly, bursting in all beauty from
its
the chrysalis in which it seems to lie dead, is a type

of the immortality of the soul, and the Greek word
psyche means both the butterfly and the soul. In

a beautiful old Greek story Psyche is also the name
of a maiden of surpassing loveliness who, it was
"
foretold, should be the bride of a monster whom
neither gods nor men can resist." From the summit
of a mountain she was carried by Zephyrus into a
lovely valley, and placed gently down at the entrance
more than mortal splendour, surrounded
of a palace of
by beautiful trees and flowers.

As she entered she was welcomed by sweet voices
and music, and for many days lived in this beautiful
home, surrounded by every care and attention,
though her attendants were all invisible. Here her
destined husband visited her, but always during
the hours of darkness, and though his words were
full of love she
caught no glimpse of his form.
Growing weary of the daily solitude, she begged
that her two sisters might visit her, and gained a
reluctant consent. They too were brought by
Zephyrus, but their sister's beautiful home filled
them with envy, and at last they persuaded her to
betray her husband's trust by looking upon him,

to see if he was really the monster that they pictured
him to be.
So at night, when he lay asleep, she stole softly
to his side with a lamp, and saw a most beautiful
youth, for was Cupid who had chosen her for his
it
bride. But the god awoke, and telling her sadly

that love cannot live with suspicion, spread his
wings and fled. The palace, too, vanished, and
poor Psyche, now full of love for her husband,
wandered day and night in search of him.
Advised by Ceres, she besought forgiveness of
the goddess of love, the mother of the husband her
conduct had driven away. But Venus received her
angrily and set her difficult and dangerous tasks
to prove her repentance. Cupid, however, who
stillloved her dearly, gave her secret help, and at
last prevailed on Jupiter to intercede with the
offended goddess. So Psyche was forgiven, and

made immortal, with the promise that she should
never again be separated from her beloved Cupid.
CHAPTER XII: STORIES
OF BIRDS I
The Swallow and the Nightingale Procne and Philo-
:
mela The Hawk Daedalion The Peacock Argus

: :
Story of lo The Partridge Perdix Daedalus

:
and the Labyrinth the Minotaur The Death of

:
Icarus : Invention of the Saw and Compasses The

Crow and the Raven
CHAPTER XII
Stories of Birds I
f "^HERE are so many of the old Greek stories
which finish up by telling that some of the

A. actors in them were turned into birds, that
it seems, in many be simply a picturesque
cases, to
way of saying that they were lost sight of, or took

refuge in flight. Some of them, again, were suggested
by the fact that the subject of the story happened to
have the same name as that of a bird, or a similar
one, and the same applies to some of the stories of
animals or plants.
But still others seem to be based on the peculiarities
of the birds which figure in them, for such birds as
the magpie, the owl, the nightingale, the jackdaw,
and so on, differ as much in their habits and character
as the animals with which the stories in the previous
chapters have dealt. The present chapter will deal

with such stories, of which we will first take that of
the Swallow and the Nightingale.
The melancholy sweetness of the nightingales
note, all the more striking from the fact of its singing
151
in the stillness of night, when the songsters of day
have returned to their nests, has always had a great
attraction for poetic minds. So we are not surprised
to find that the Greek poets invented a story based
on it while the same story is connected with two
;
peculiarities of another bird, the swallow its being
songless, and its habit of building under the eaves

and window-heads of houses, as though anxious to
mix with the inmates.
Pandion, King of Athens, had two daughters,
Procne and Philomela. In a war against the city
of Thebes, Pandion was assisted by Tereus, King of
Thrace (or of Daulis), and in return for this help
gave his ally his daughter Procne for his wife. But
it was not destined to be a happy marriage for the
poor bride. Even at the wedding-feast there were

omens of disaster. Hymen, the god of marriage,
and the Graces did not give it their blessing, and an
owl flew in and perched hooting on the rafters.
Tereus returned home with his bride, but after
a few years he tired of her, and shut her up in a tower
at some distance from his palace. One account says
that Procne, feeling lonely, begged her husband to
send for her sister at any rate Tereus did so, and
Philomela came to his court. Then the king, who
had guarded, as he thought, against his secret being
revealed, by cruelly cutting out his wife's tongue,

Stories of Birds 153
told Philomela that her sister was dead, and before
long persuaded her to become his queen, in the place
of the deeply-wronged Procne.
Shut up within stone walls, carefully guarded, and
bereft of speech, Procne had yet one means by which
she could make known her wrongs. She was very
clever in the art of weaving, so she wove a fabric
in which the story was set forth in the form of pictures,
and sent it by a faithful old servant to her sister.
Philomela understood the terrible truth, and took
steps to release her unhappy sister.
According to the older story, the sisters took a
horrible revenge by killing Itys, the little son of
Procne and Tereus, and serving him up as food to the
cruel king, so that the fate which befell them was a
punishment for their unnatural crime. But another

and pleasanter variation tells us that they took Itys
and from the palace by night. Tereus, however,
fled
was aroused and pursued them, and when, seeing

there was no escape, they called upon the gods,
Procne was turned into a swallow, and Philomela
into a nightingale. Tereus himself was turned into
a bird, but accounts differ as to what it was some
say a hawk, which for ever pursues the two sisters.
Procne built her nest under the eaves of the palace,
and repeatedly tried to attract the attention of her
little son, even flying at times into the rooms of the
dwelling to do so, but the child, of course, could not
understand what the bird wanted. Philomela (the
nightingale is often spoken of as Philomel in poetry),

on the other hand, haunts the groves and the fields,
singing in plaintive strains the story of the cruelty
suffered by herself and her sister.
The following story gives a very different account

of the origin of the hawk. Daedalion was the son
of Lucifer, the morning star, who summons the car
of Phcebus, and is the last of the stars to withdraw
from the sky. His brother Ceyx loved to rule in
peace, but Dsedalion was of a fierce, active nature,
and was never so happy as when waging war against
other kings, and pursuing his foes.
He had a daughter, who was so beautiful that
many suitors sought her in marriage, and even
Apollo and Mercury praised her charms. But she
grew vain and presumptuous through the praises
which were lavished upon her, and dared to boast
that her beauty was greater than that of Diana.
So the wrath of the goddess was aroused against her,
"
and, with the bitter jest, Perhaps if my looks do
not please her, my deeds will," Diana bent her bow
and slew the presumptuous maiden. Then the
funeral pile was built, and her body was given to
the flames.
Her father was overcome with grief, and would
listen to no words of comfort. He would have rushed
into the midst of the pile himself, but the flames
drove him back. Then, in madness, he dashed away
through the pathless woods until he reached the top
of Mount Parnassus, and was about to fling himself
from the top of the rock. But Apollo, pitying him,
turned him into a bird, and gave him a curved beak
and sharp talons. His courage and warlike nature
were unchanged, while his strength was greater than
the size of his body would account for. So now,
as a hawk, he is an enemy to all the other birds, and
avenges on them the griefs he himself has been made

to suffer.
The and beautiful markings on the tail
curious
of the Peacock are often called eyes, and according
to a famous myth they were once really eyes. The
bird was supposed by the Greeks to be the especial
favourite of the goddess Juno, just as the dove was
the bird of Venus.
Argus was a man who had

a hundred eyes spread
over his body, and as he never went to sleep, except
on the fatal occasion recorded in this story, with
more than two at a time, he has become the type
of watchfulness which nothing can escape. Jupiter
wooed a beautiful maiden named lo, the daughter
of the river-god Machus, and to protect her from trie
jealousy of Juno, turned her into a white cow. Juno,

however, suspected the secret, and asked Jupiter
where the beautiful animal had come from. He
told her he had just caused it to spring from the
earth, so she praised its beauty, and asked for it
as a gift. As he could hardly refuse such a simple
request without deeply offending the goddess, he

unwillingly consented, and poor lo was fastened to
an olive tree in the grove of Juno.
To make quite sure she should not be secretly
carried off, Juno set Argus to watch over her. The
father of lo, mourning over her disappearance,
sought his daughter far and wide, and at last came
to the place where she was. lo could only make
a sad lowing when she tried to speak, but to let her
father know the dreadful plight she was in, she
scratched on the ground, on a patch of sand, her
name Then he understood what had happened
Ift.
to her, but Argus drovehim away.

Jupiter, however, moved by her grief, determined
to get rid of Argus and release lo, and sent his
messenger, the god Mercury, to kill the watchful

guardian. This was just the kind of errand that
Mercury enjoyed, for he delighted in cunning tricks.
So he flew down to the earth, and laid aside all signs
of his divinity except his wand. He then wandered
towards the place where Argus was seated, on the
top of a hill, so that he could see in all directions.
Mercury appeared to be a simple shepherd, driving
before him a flock of sheep, and playing skilfully on
his Pandaean pipes.
Pleased with the music, Argus invited him to come
and sit beside him, while the flock wandered in safety
on the grassy plain below. This was just what the
god wanted, so he sat by Argus all day long, trying
by soothing strains of music, and long stories, to send
him to sleep. Try as he would, however, some one
or more of the hundred eyes still
kept watch. At last
Argus asked how the. instrument
Mercury held in his
hand came to be invented, and the god told the story
ofPan and Syrinx, spinning it out to a great length.
At last every one of the eyes was closed in slumber,
when Mercury sprang upon the unfortunate watch-
man, slew him, and set lo free. Juno, in memory
of Argus, took his hundred eyes, and scattered them
over the tail of her favourite bird, and there they are
to this day as a proof of the truth of the story.
The myth which
explains the origin of the partridge
seems to be one of those for which a resemblance of
names is responsible. Perdix is the name of the
partridge, it is also the name of a mythical youth

who. perished by violence, hence a story springs up
in which the latter is turned into the bird which bears
hisname, though, indeed, the poet who tells the story
says that it accounts for one of the habits of the bird.
Daedalus was the famous artificer of Greek myth-
ology, and his skill in building and in working in metals

was marvellous. He made, for example, a wonderful
labyrinth, or maze, in which it was impossible for a

person once entangled to find his way out. This
was the haunt of the Minotaur, a monster with a
man's body and a bull's head, which fed on human
and which was at last killed by the hero Theseus.
flesh,
Another famous work of Daedalus was the making

of wings, by means of which he and his son Icarus
escaped from Crete. The father safely reached Sicily,

but the son perished. He was warned not to fly
too low, lest the waves should wet his wings and bring
him down ; nor too high, lest the heat of the sun
should melt the wax with which the wings were
fastened to his shoulders, but he neglected the
warning, and flew so near the sun that the wax
softened, his wings came loose, and he fell headlong
into what was called, after him, the Icarian Sea.
The sister of Daedalus placed her son Perdix under
the care of the cunning artificer, as what we should
now call an apprentice, and the youth showed
wonderful promise. Walking one day on the sea-
shore, he saw the backbone of a fish lying on the
beach, and by imitating its shape in iron he invented
the saw. It is said that he was also the first to use
compasses for describing circles.

The Lament for Icarus
Herbert Draper 158
National Gallery of British Art
By ipedal arrangement with the artUt. All right* reienred
His cleverness roused the jealousy of his uncle,
who feared that his pupil would grow to be more
famous than himself. To avoid this danger, he
pushed Perdix from the top of a tower they had built,
But
intending that he should be dashed in pieces.
Minerva, who always favoured those who showed
skill in the arts, unless, as in the case of Arachne,
itmade them presumptuous, saved him from death
by turning him into the bird which bears his name.
"
Ever since, the partridge, mindful of its former
fall," says the poet, dpes not raise its body aloft, or
make its home in the lofty trees, but takes care to
build nest low on the ground.

its
That a bird should have black feathers seemed,

to the Greeks, to mean that a punishment had fallen
upon it, and this was the case both with the Crow
and the Raven. The crow was at first a maiden,
who had been turned into that form by Minerva,
to save her from a pressing danger, and became the
favourite of that goddess. But she fell into disgrace,
and was banished from Minerva's company, her
place being taken by the owl.
The
raven, too, was formerly of a silvery hue,
with snow-white feathers without spot, like the doves,
and was a favourite with Apollo. He was warned by
the crow to avoid talking too much, and so escape,
the fate which had befallen her, but the advice was
unheeded, and he paid the penalty. Apollo dearly
loved a nymph named Coronis, and believed himself
equally beloved by her. But after a time of happiness,

the raven brought him word that the maiden no
longer loved him, but had given her affection to a

mortal youth. At the news, the laurel wreath fell
from the brow of the god, the lyre dropped from his
hand, and he turned pale with anger. Then, without
waiting to learn how much truth there was in the
report, he slew Coronis with one of his fatal arrows.
He soon repented his hasty action, and tried to
restore her to life, but all in vain. Then his anger
turned against the informer ; he turned the beautiful
plumage of the raven to a dismal black, and forbade
him to perch in future among the white birds.
CHAPTER XIII: STORIES
OF BIRDS II
The Magpies daughters of Pierus The Jackdaw
: :
Arne The Sea-eagle : Nisus Musical Stones

The Owl Ascalaphus Story of the Wren Proser-
:
pine in Hades The Didapper, or Diver Êsacus

:
CHAPTER XIII
Stories of Birds II
birds having special qualities

which attract attention, the Magpies were
AMONG not likely to be overlooked. Their bold-
ness, and the constant chattering they keep up, have
made their name serve, even to the present day, as a
rebuke to forward, talkative people. How they
came to have this peculiarity, according to the Greeks,
who noticed it told in the following story.
ages ago, is
On one occasion, Minerva paid a visit to the nine

Muses, goddesses who presided over music and poetry,
the arts and sciences, and who dwelt on the summits
of Mounts Helicon, Parnassus, and Pindus. Minerva
was anxious to see the wonderful spring on Mount
Helicon, which had recently been produced by the
stroke of the hoof of Pegasus, the winged horse.
As they were welcoming her, and she was saying
how happy they were, to live in such a beautiful
home, and to be engaged in such delightful occupa-
tions, the sound of wings was heard, and voices,
seemed to come from the lofty trees, also welcoming
163
her. Minerva looked up, and asked in surprise what
the sounds were, saving that it was exactly as if
human voices had spoken. One of the Muses pointed
to nine birds, which sat on a bough lamenting their
fate they were magpies. Then she went on to tell
the story of their origin.

The daughters of Pierus were proud of then* skill
in song, and also of the fact that they were the same
in number as the Muses themselves. But so vain
and foolish were they, that they came to the god-
"
desses and challenged them, saying, Cease imposing
on the ignorant with your empty melody. If you
have any confidence in your skill, contend with us.
We are not to be outdone in voice or skill, and we are
as many in number. Then, when we have overcome
you, we will take your places."
The Muses were ashamed to contend with them,
but would have been still more ashamed to refuse,
so they agreed, and the Nymphs chosen to act as
judges sat around on the rocks. Then one of the

Pierides (daughters of Pierus), the one who had
first spoken, sang of the war of the Giants against
the Gods, but praised the giants far more than was
their due. She sang how the gods fled to Egypt,
where flows the Nile with its seven mouths, and how
they took refuge under different shapes. Jupiter
became a horned bull, Apollo a crow, Diana a cat,
Varvakeion Statuette
Antique copy of the Athena of Phidias 164
Nationa Museum, Athena
Juno a snow-white cow, Venus a fish, Bacchus a
he-goat, and Mercury an ibis.
Then one of the Muses, took her harp, and
Calliope,
in tones so sweet that the voice of her opponent
seemed coarse and tuneless in comparison, sang the
story of Pluto and Proserpine, and of the wanderings
of Ceres in search of her beloved daughter. When
she had finished, the Nymphs at once awarded her
the victory, whereupon the defeated sisters began to
load the Muses with abuse.
Then the Nymphs told them that since they had
not only deserved punishment by daring to compare
themselves with the goddesses, the daughters of
Jupiter, but had added abuse to their fault, their

punishment should
quickly follow. The sisters
despised the threat, and smiled in derision, but
while they were waving their insolent hands, they
saw quills growing out of their nails, and their arms
covered with feathers.
Then- clamouring voices became meaningless, and
each could see the faces of the rest growing smaller
with their bodies, and shooting out into hard beaks.
While they strove to beat their breasts in their
dismay, the movement carried them into the air,
and they hung poised as magpies, the scandal of the
'
groves. Eventhen, the poet tells us, their original

talkativeness remained in them, and their enormous
love of chattering.In speaking of the birds uttering
words of welcome to Minerva, another Greek poet
tells us that it was a common thing among the
ancients to teach parrots and magpies to do this.
The Jackdaw has a great fondness for bright or
sparkling objects, which it often picks up and takes

to its nest. When a jackdaw's nest is found it
often has bits of glass or of metal lying about it.
When they are kept as pets, unless carefully watched,
they will carry off even valuable things, such as rings,
coins, or small gold and silver nick-nacks. Everyone
will remember how the
"
Jackdaw of Rheims "
carried off the Cardinal's ring.This peculiar fancy
of the jackdaw gave rise to the idea that it was a
covetous bird, fond of hoarding up money, and the
Greeks had a story which explained how it came to
have such a bad character.
Arne was the daughter of a king whose city was
closely besieged by his foes. Time after time their
attacks were beaten off, but Arne, filled with the love
of gold, stole from the city and sought an interview
with their chief, offering to betray the city into their
hands for a large sum. The offer was accepted,
the act of treachery carried out, and the gold paid
over to the unnatural daughter. But while she was
gloating over her ill-gotten wealth, the vengeance

of the gods fell upon her, and she was changed into
a jackdaw, still retaining, in her new form, the avarice
which had been her ruin, and which is still shown
in the character of her descendants.
Scylla, the daughter of a king named Nisus, also
brought punishment upon by betraying her

herself
father to his enemy, but, wicked as her conduct was,
her motive was not the vile one that moved Arne.
Nisus had a purple lock amid his grey hairs, and it
had been foretold that so long as this lock was un-
injured his city should never be taken. Now Minos,
a son of Jupiter, was besieging the city, but, famous
warrior though he was, he could make no impression
on it.
The high walls, strengthened with towers, resisted

all his efforts. It was said that the stones of one of
these towers, when struck, gave forth musical notes,
and Scylla, in time of peace, had often amused herself
by going up this tower and striking the musical
stones with a pebble. When
the walls were being
built, Apollo had helped in the work, and in the
meantime laid his harp upon the stones of the tower.
So wonderful was this lyre that its music had remained
in the stones. We may be sure that this myth arose
through the ancients noticing that some stones, when
struck, give out a clear, ringing note.
But Scylla, watching the siege from this tower,
often saw the leader of the enemy, and his valour

and manly beauty, with the splendour of his appear-
ance, so worked upon her that she fell violently in
love with him. Then the idea came to her to try to
win his favour by delivering up the city, and although
at first she drew back in horror from such a deed,
in the end she yielded. In the dead of night, when
Nisus was asleep, she cut the fatal lock from his head,
and, slipping past the sentinels, made her way to
the tent of Minos. Giving him the lock, she begged
him to take her back with him to his own country,
but Minos refused her and told her that he
gift,
would not allow such a wretch to come into his land.
The city was then overcome, according to the
prophecy, and Minos sailed away. But Scylla, when
she saw the fleet departing, flung herself into the sea,
and, clutching the stern of the king's vessel, was
dragged through the waves. As she was clinging to
the ship, her father, who had been changed into a
sea-eagle, with tawny wings, darted after her to tear

her with his sharp, curved beak. In terror she
loosed her hold, but she was instantly turned into a
sea-bird,and flew off, with her angry parent in pursuit.
So the sea-eagle still makes war upon the other sea-
birds, whose only safety is in flight.
The Owl got his bad name through flying by night
in search of small birds, mice, and other prey. His
vision is very keen in the twilight, or even when it is
Stories of Birds 1
69
almost dark, when he can really fly well, and startles
people by his noiseless approach, but in the

daytime
the light dazzles him, making him seem lazy and
stupid. When by chance he does appear in daylight,

the smaller birds, who recognise him as their enemy,
often attack him, knowing that he is at a dis-
advantage.
But an old legend found in French folk-lore gives
a very different explanation for this. The story goes
that the wren flew into the sky to fetch down fire for
the rest, and got his feathers burned in doing so.
The other birds, to show their gratitude, each gave
him a feather to replace those he had lost, all but the
owl, who refused on the ground that he needed all

his feathers for thecoming winter. So he is con-
demned to stay in hiding all day, and to suffer from
cold at night, while the more generous birds will not
suffer him to be in their company.
The owl has always been considered a bird of evil

omen, to bring bad luck, and even foretell death.
For this reason, and because he is the bird of night,
it is not surprising that the old Greek story makes
the infernal regions his place of origin. While the

Muse was relating to Minerva the story of Ceres, as
she had sung it in the contest with the daughters
of Pierus, she also told the story of the owl. -
,
It will be remembered that Ceres had permission

1
to bring back her daughter from the realms of Pluto,
but only on condition that she had eaten nothing
during her stay there. However, when walking in
Pluto's garden she had eaten a few seeds from
a pomegranate. Unfortunately, Ascalaphus had
watched her, and, by telling what he had seen, pre-
vented her rescue. According to one story, Ceres
punished him by placing a great rock on him, and
when Hercules released him, turned him into an owl.
But the poet Ovid says that the Queen of Erebus
(Proserpine) changed him into an accursed bird, and
turned his head, sprinkled with the waters of
Phlegethon (the burning river of the infernal regions),

"
into a beak, and feathers, and great eyes. He, thus
robbed of his own shape, is clothed with tawny wings,
hishead becomes larger, his nails bend inwards, and
with difficulty can he move the wings that spring
through his sluggish arms. He becomes the fore-
boder of approaching woe, a lazy owl, a direful omen
to mortals."
Yet the owl represented as being the favourite
is
bird of Minerva, the goddess of wisdom, taking the
place of the crow, as we have seen. He owes this
honour to the grave and solemn look of his round

face and great staring eyes.
The Didapper, or Diver, a sea-bird which gets its
name from the depth to which it dives, and the length
of time it remains under water, was said to be the
form into which JSsacus was changed. This prince,
seeing a nymph named Hesperie, the daughter of a

river-god, sitting by the side of her father's stream,
fell in love with her, and pursued her to carry her off.
The nymph fled, and in her flight a snake bit her
foot, causing her death. Her pursuer, filled with

remorse, determined to atone for his fault in bringing
her to this sad end by putting an end to his own life,
and hurled himself from a high rock into the sea.
But Neptune took pity on him, and as he fell,
turned him into a bird. Determined to die, he again
dashed himself into the water, but his feathers broke
his fall. Henceforth he constantly tried to destroy
"
himself by plunging into the waves. Love caused
his leanness ; the spaces between the joints of his
legs are long ;

neck remains long ; and his head
his
is far away from his body." In this fanciful way are

the peculiarities of this bird accounted for.
CHAPTER XIV: STORIES
OF BIRDS III
The King-fisher :
Halcyone and Ceyx Doves :
Daughters of Anius The Heron :

City of Ardea
Ships of Jineas become Nymphs Cranes : Gerane
War of Pygmies and Cranes Hercules and
Pygmies The Stork The Woodpecker : Picus
CHAPTER XIV
Stories of Birds III
p ^HE ideas held by the ancients with regard

to that beautiful bird the Kingfisher,
JL or Halcyon as it was called, were a curious
mixture of fact and f ancy.
These birds were supposed
to be a model of the affection and constancy which
should bind husband and wife together, and it was
said that the male bird, when it lost its mate, would
livea solitary life rather than pair again. It was also
supposed that they built their nests on the sea-shore,

and that while the female was hatching her young
the sea was calm for seven days, though the number
is also
given at nine, and eleven.
These ideas gave rise to the story of Ceyx and
Halcyone, which is told in a very touching manner
in an old poem. Ceyx, the king of a district in
Thessaly, was the son of Phosphor, or Lucifer, the
Morning Star, and his wife Halcyone was the daughter
of JEolus, the wind-god. (The winds and the stars
were very closely connected in ancient ideas, botlj
belonging to the sky.) They were devoted to each

175
other, and could not bear the idea of separation.
But misfortune fell
upon the family and the
country of Ceyx, and he realised that he had
fallenunder the displeasure of the gods. You will
remember the fate of his brother, who was changed

into a hawk.
One account says that Ceyx and Halcyone called
" " "
each other Jove and Hera," and that the anger
of Jove at this presumption was the cause of their
woes. At any rate, Ceyx determined to consult an
oracle, to learn what he should do to be restored to
favour, and for this purpose he was obliged to take
a long sea-voyage. His wife, who, as a daughter

of JSolus, knew only too well the dangers of the sea,
had a feeling that he would never return, and begged
him not to go, but he would not yield to her entreaties,
nor would he allow her to share with him the dangers
of the voyage.
Soothing her fears as best he could, he set sail,

and Halcyone stood upon the shore waving her
hand to him so long as she could distinguish his form.
Then, full of forebodings, she threw herself down
on the shore and wept. Her fears were only too
well founded, for before they had gone far a terrific
storm burst. Amid terrifying gloom, broken only by
the flash of the lightning, the ship was tossed help-
lessly on the
waves. The mast broke, the sailors
were terrified and helpless, and at last the bark was
overwhelmed.
Ceyx, full of grief for his beloved wife, prayed, as
he sank beneath the waves, that his body might be
borne by them to his native strand and the feet of
Halcyone, who he knew would be watching for him.
In the meantime Halcyone was constantly beseech-
ing the gods to bring back her husband in safety,
and Juno, grieving to hear her appeals on behalf of
one who was already dead, sent Iris to command the
god of sleep to send a, vision to reveal the truth to
the unhappy wife.
Iris at once put on her robes of a thousand colours,
and, placing her curving arch in the heavens, sped

down to the court of Sleep with the message. Then
Morpheus, who is so called because he can assume
any shape (morphe, in Greek, means shape), took the

form of Ceyx, and appeared to Halcyone in a dream
during the night, telling her his fate. At dawn the
queen rushed down to the shore, and saw tossing on
the waves a body, which, as it came near, she recog-
nised as that of her husband.
In despair she flung herself into the sea, but the
gods, pitying their sad fate, turned them both into
birds. So they still lived, as Kingfishers, and their
love was as strong as ever. And now, for seven calm
days, in the winter-time, does Halcyon brood upon

M
her nest, floating on the winter sea. JSolus keeps
the waters calm, and prevents the winds from rushing
forth, lest they should destroy his descendants, and
these days are called the Halcyon days.
Doves are looked upon as gentle, affectionate birds,
fond of human
society, easily frightened by rough
treatment, but easily won by kindness, and, as we
should expect, the maidens who, in the following
story, were changed into doves, had a very amiable

character. Anius was a king who was also a prophet
of Apollo, and a great favourite of that god, who
gave to his son the gift of prophecy. To his four
beautiful and gentle daughters Bacchus gave a

very extraordinary gift, the power of turning
whatever they wished into corn, and wine, and
olives, considered by the Greeks the necessaries
of life.
This gift was often a source of joy to the people of

Anius, but it brought disaster to the maidens them-
selves. For Agamemnon, when he was sailing with
his followers to attack Troy, came to the island, and
demanded that they should supply his fleet with
provisions. But Anius was friendly to the people

of Troy, and his daughters could not bear the thought
of being forced to help their enemies.So they fled,
but the Greek leader learned where they had taken
refuge, and followed them with his fleet, threatening
to make war upon their protectors if they were not
at once given up to him.
The people of the islands to which they had fled,
far too weak to be able to defy such a great force,
had no choice but to yield, and the maidens were
sent on board the king's ship. But while chains
were being brought, with which to bind them, they
lifted up their arms and called on Bacchus for aid.
The god heard their prayer, and delivered them by

changing them into snow-white doves.
To the Heron is given a very curious origin, which,
though it pretends to explain the form and voice of
the bird, is probably due to the word Ardea, which
was the name of the heron, being also the name of the
city mentioned in the story. It is said, too, that
herons were really plentiful in the neighbourhood
where the bird is supposed to have arisen.
When JSneas, the Trojan hero, came to Italy to
make a new home for the remnant of his people, he
was opposed by a king named Turnus, whose chief
city was Ardea. Turnus set fire to the ships of Êneas,
but the goddess Cybele, remembering that the pines
of which they were built had been cut from her
favourite mount, Ida, would not allow them to be
destroyed. So she came in her chariot, drawn by
lions,and, helped by the sons of Astrseus (the
Winds), broke the cables, carried the burning
ships out to sea, and quenched them beneath the

waves.
Then the wood softened and became flesh, the keel
became a backbone, the oars became fingers and
swimming feet, the cordage became soft hair in
short,the ships were changed into Sea-Nymphs.
They now sport in the waters which once they dreaded,

but, remembering their origin, they often give a
helping hand to the tempest-tossed ships, unless they

happen to be manned by Greeks, the race to which
Troy owed its ruin.
In the battle which followed, Turnus was slain,
and the Trojans set fire to the city of Ardea. When
it was consumed, a bird the heron then known
for the first time, arose from the embers, and beat
the ashes with its flapping wings. The new bird
"
is thus described : The voice, the leanness, the
paleness, and everything that befitsa captured city,
and the very name of the city, remain in that bird ;
and Ardea itself is bewailed by the beating of its
wings." And indeed, the heron, like others of its
not a festive-looking bird.

class, is
The Cranes migrated each year from Europe to
Africa, and a strange story arose in connection with
them. was said that they flew to the lands far
It
away at the sources of the Nile, and that there war

was carried on every year between them and a race
Stories of Birds 1 8 1
of tiny people called Pygmies who lived there.
Possibly monkeys gave rise to the idea of these
pygmies, though a race of dwarfs has actually been

discovered in Africa by Stanley. (Pliny says that
the pygmies go down to the sea each year, and
eat the eggs and young of the cranes. He, how-
ever, places them in India).
When the cranes arrived, they attacked the corn-
fields of the pygmies, and they in turn attacked the
cranes. We are told that Gerane, or Pygas, was
once Queen of the Pygmies, who worshipped her as
a goddess. This raised her to such a pitch of pride

that she despised the worship of the gods. Jupiter
and Diana, as a punishment, turned her into a crane,
and put enmity between her and her people, so that
the cranes were from that time the great enemies
of the tiny people who had shared in the fault of then*
queen. The weapon of the cranes was their long sharp

beak, which they use in fighting, and also in killing
the reptiles on which they feed.
Another story tells us that Hercules, in one of his
expeditions, came into the land of the pygmies, in
Africa. They prepared to attack the hero, but he
laughed at them, and, taking up some of them, put

them in a fold of his robe and carried them off.
'
The Stork another princess in disguise, though

is
there does not seem to be much in the bird itself to

account for the story. Antigone, daughter of a king
of Troy, was remarkable for the extreme beauty
of her hair, and was so proud of it that she used to
compare herself to Juno. The goddess, to punish

her presumption, turned her hair into snakes, but
the other gods, in pity, changed her into a
stork.
The Woodpecker supposed to tap the bark of
is
trees with its beak, in order to discover, from the
sound, whether there are hollows beneath, in which

insects are hid. But the following story gives a very
different reason for the tapping, and explains how
the bird came into existence. In this case, as in
some others, the fact that Picus is the name of the
bird and also of the hero of the story probably
gave the myth.

rise to
Picus, a son of Saturn, was a young king who

loved a maiden equally famed for her beauty
and her voice, which was so sweet that her singing
often tamed the wild beasts while the birds in their
;
flight, and even the rivers

in their courses, would
pause to hear her, as they did to listen to Orpheus,

the son of Apollo. Hence she was called Canens
the singer.
While Picus was hunting one day, the witch Circe
saw him, as she was gathering plants with which to
make magic liquors. She at once fell in love with
him, and determined that he should be her husband.
Taking on the form of a wild boar, for her magic arts
made this an easy task for her, she rushed past the
king, who at once urged on his horse in pursuit.
So swift was the chase that Picus became quite

separated from his companions, and then Circe
returned again to her own shape, and told him why
she had lured him away.
For all her beauty, and though she was the daughter
of the Sun, he refused to have anything to do with
her, telling her that his affections were fixed on

Canens, and would always remain so. In vain she
urged him, and then, her love turning to rage, she
repeated dreadful charms over him. He fled, and,
wondering that his flight was so swift, he suddenly
saw that he was turned into a bird. In his anger
he struck the wild oaks with his hard beak, and
inflicted wounds on the branches.
His wings took the purple colour of his robe, the
golden buckle which had fastened his garment be-
came feathers, and encompassed his neck with the
colour of yellow gold. His attendants, meeting
Circe, demanded to know what she had done with
their king, and were about to attack her, but, touching
them with her wand, she turned them into wild
beasts. His beloved Canens, when he failed to '
appear, sought him far and wide, and when con-

vinced that he had perished, pined away until at last
she vanished.
But the descendants of Picus, to this day, when
they think of the cruel fate of their ancestor, vent

their anger in hard blows with their sharp beaks
upon the bark of the trees.

CHAPTER XV: STORIES
OF TREES
The Laurel Daphne The Cypress Cyparissus
: :
The Wild Olive The Pine-tree Attis The Mul-

:
berry :
Pyramus and Thisbe
CHAPTER XV
Stories of Trees
Apollo had slain the huge and

after
deadly python with his fatal arrows, he saw

SOON one day the little god Cupid playing with his
bow. So he spoke scornfully to the boy, saying :
'
What have you to do, foolish boy, with gallant
arms ? Leave those things to me, who am able
to give deadly wounds to the fierce wild beasts,
and to my enemies, and do not seek praise for skill
"
which properly belongs to me." Your bow may
shoot all things, Phoebus," replied the youthful god,
"
but mine shall shoot you ; and as you are more
glorious game than wild beasts, so is my glory greater
than yours."
There was a nymph named Daphne,
the daughter
of the river-god Peneus, a maiden so beautiful that
many youths loved her and sought her hand. But

she cared for none of them, for her whole delight was
in the joys of the chase. When her father told her
she ought to accept one of her lovers, she begged that
she might be allowed always to remain single, and to
187
give herself up to hunting, as Diana did. Her
father promised that she should have her wish, but
still she might have changed her mind in time, had
it not been for Cupid.
This god determined to be revenged on Apollo for
his scornful words, by making him fall in love without
his love being returned. So he took from his quiver
two arrows of very different kinds. One was of a
brilliant colour, tipped with gold, and sharp pointed ;
one of the arrows with which he made

love to spring
up in the breast of either god or mortal. The other

was and quite blunt
dull in colour, tipped with lead, ;
its power was such that any one struck by it became

incapable of feeling love.
With this he struck Daphne, who had never cared
about the matter before, but who now hated the very
idea of a lover. But with the golden-tipped weapon
he pierced the breast of Apollo, when Daphne, not
far away, was following the chase. At once he was
seized with violent love for the nymph, who indeed
was beautiful enough to please even a god, and longed
to make her his bride.
Coming towards he began to tell her of his

her,
love, but she fled at her utmost speed. Apollo

followed, but she would not stop, in spite of all his
appeals. She could not escape from the god, however,

and when her strength was failing, she called on her
Stories of Trees 189
father to save her, or on the earth to swallow her up,
rather than she should become the bride of Apollo.
Hardly had she spoken when she lost the power
to run, she began to be enclosed in bark, and to take
root in the ground. Her arms became branches,
her hair leaves, and she was changed into a laurel
tree. Apollo embraced the tree, and mourned for
"
his lost love. Since thou canst not be my wife,"
"
said he, at least thou shalt be my tree, and I will
adorn with thee my head, my lyre, and my quiver."
He promised, too, that as he had the gift of eternal
youth, so she should be ever green, and that victors

should be crowned with laurel wreaths, and bear
branches of laurel, instead of the beech, which had
hitherto been used. Not only Apollo himself, and
victors in war, but those who excelled in poetry and
music, arts under the special protection of the god,
were crowned with laurel, which is still used in the
same way in pictures and sculpture.
The Cypress-tree, with its sombre appearance,
has for ages been associated with mourning, and
planted near the graves of the departed ; and that

is probably how the story arose of Cyparissus,
another mortal whom the favour of Apollo could not
save from disaster.
It will be remembered that -3sculapius, the son
of Apollo, was slain by Jupiter when his brother,
Pluto, complained that the wise physician restored
the dead to life. Apollo could not, of course, take
revenge on the King of the Gods, but he vented his

anger on the Cyclops, who, as the workmen of
Vulcan, had forged the fatal thunder-bolt. For this
act Apollo was condemned to serve for nine years as
a shepherd, under Admetus, king of Thessaly. It
was during this time that he formed a friendship with
a youth named Cyparissus, and also with Hyacinthus,
of whom we shall hear again. These youths often
accompanied Apollo in his sports, and in hunting.
Now there was a large stag, which was a great
favourite of Apollo, and was sacred to the Nymphs.
His horns were adorned with gold, a necklace of
gems hung round his smooth neck, and he bore
other ornaments placed upon him by his admirers,
for he was so tame and fearless that he went about
among the people, and allowed himself to be patted

even by strangers. Cyparissus was especially fond
of him, and would often decorate him with wreaths
of flowers, and even ride on his back.
But one unlucky day, when Cyparissus was hunting,

by a sad mischance he pierced this stag with a sharp
javelin, and when he saw the poor animal dying from
the wound, he determined to put an end to his own
life. Apollo tried to calm him, and soften his grief,
but the youth would not be consoled, and as a last
favour asked the gods that he might mourn for ever.
So he was turned into a cypress, and Apollo lamented
"
his fate, saying : Thou shalt be mourned by me,
and shalt mourn for others ; thou shalt ever attend
upon those who are sorrowing for the dead."
The olive tree, as we have seen, was the special
gift of the goddess Minerva, and was highly prized
by the Greeks, as it is now by many other nations,

but the wild olive, with its bitter berries, unfit for
food, had a very different origin. In a part of

Calabria, a mountainous region of Italy, there was
a cave overshadowed by trees, with a smooth stream
flowing by. This was one of the abodes of Pan, but
long before then it had been a favourite haunt of the
nymphs, who often sported on the smooth green
sward in front of it.
But one day a rough shepherd found the spot, and

scared away the gentle nymphs. At first they fled
in but recovering from their fright, they
terror,
treated him with contempt, and went on their way
moving in graceful dance, as when he had interrupted

them. But the shepherd followed them, mocking
their movements with rude capers, and became more
and more abusive.
Swift punishment, however, fell upon him, for he
suddenly found himself fixed to the spot. Growing

bark closed his throat, and his insulting speech failed
him. His body was enclosed in the trunk of a tree,
and soon he had entirely disappeared. " From this
"
treeand its sap," says the poet, you may understand
what were his manners. For the wild olive, by its
bitter berries, shows the vileness of his tongue ;
the coarseness of his words passed into them."

The Pine-tree was also, according to the ancients,
once a human being named who was changed
Attis,
into that form, but the accounts differ very much
as to the details. According to one, Attis, or Athis,
was a young shepherd with whom a king's daughter
fell in love, and who was condemned to be put to
death, but was saved by being changed into a tree.

In another account he was thus changed by magic
arts, because he would not forsake the maiden to
whom he was plighted, just as Picus was turned into
a woodpecker.
The story of Pyramus and Thisbe explains how the
"
Mulberry, which bore white fruit formerly, now
bears it of purple hue, from the contact of blood."
The scene is laid in the city of Babylon, built by
Semiramis, and one of the most famous of eastern
cities. Its walls are said to have been 87 feet thick,
350 feet high, and 60 miles in circuit. In this city,
in two houses built side by side, lived Pyramus, a
handsome youth, and Thisbe, the most beautiful
maiden in the East. They were deeply in love
Stories of Trees T
93
with each other, but their parents forbade their
union, though they could not destroy their
affection.
But which separated the two houses

in the wall
the lovers discovered a chink, which no one else had
noticed. they would often converse
Through this
with each other, and breathe vows of constancy.

One day they agreed that, when night came, they
would steal out unnoticed, and meet at the tomb of
Ninus (the first king of Babylon), some distance from
the city. There, close by a clear spring, stood a
lofty mulberry tree, full of snow-white fruit, and
this was to be their meeting-place.
Thisbe, deceiving herattendants, slipped away
when night fell, and, reaching the appointed spot,
sat down under the tree, though she trembled at the
dangers of the night. But as she waited, a lioness,

with its jaws all smeared with the blood of an ox
it had came
to drink at the spring. The
just slain,
maiden, seeing the dreadful beast coming, sprang
up and fled for refuge into a cave not far away,
leaving behind her veil, which had fallen off as she
ran. The returned from the spring,

lioness, as she
saw the veil, and, tearing it with her blood-stained
jaws, left it lying there all red with blood.
Pyramus, coming up a little later, saw the foot-
prints of the beast, and, pale with fear for Thisbe's

N
safety, hastened forward to the meeting-place, where
he found, as he thought, the evidence of her cruel
death. As his tears fell on the well-remembered
garment he blamed himself as the cause of her death,

for not having been there first, ready to protect her,
and called on the wild beasts to devour him also.
Then, drawing his sword, he plunged it into his own

breast, determined not to outlive his beloved Thisbe.
His blood, taken up by the roots of the mulberry-
tree, turned the fruit to a dark purple hue, which
it ever afterwards retained.
Presently, Thisbe, recovering somewhat from her

fright, stole back to the trysting-place, eager to tell
her lover of the dreadful danger she had escaped,
though at first uncertain whether it was the same

spot, so different did the tree look with its now dark
fruit. But when she saw the body of her dying
lover, she flung herself down by him, and called in
anguish to him to speak to her, and tell her what

had happened.
But Pyramus, casting one look on her beloved
features, closed his eyes in death. Then the unhappy
maiden, seeing her own veil, and her lover's ivory
sheath without its sword, realised what had happened,
and, taking up the weapon, prayed that she and her
dead lover should be buried in the same tomb, and
that the mulberry might always bear fruit black,
suitable for mourning, as a memorial of the blood
of two faithful but ill-fated lovers.
Then, placing
the point of the sword to her bosom, she fell upon it,
and thus Pyramus and Thisbe shared the same fate,
faithful to each other unto death.
CHAPTER XVI: STORIES
OF FLOWERS AND
PLANTS
The Hyacinth Hyacinthus Death of *Ajax The
:
Sunflower : Frankincense Plant Leucothoe

Clytie :
Myrrh Myrrha Death of Adonis the Anemone

: :
Poisonous Plants Aconite

:
CHAPTER XVI
Stories of Flowers and Plants
flower known to the old Greeks as the
Hyacinth was not the one we know by

that name, but a purple flower, perhaps
some variety of pansy, his, or larkspur. It bore on
its petals certain dark marks somewhat like the
letters AI, AI, which make the Greek word corre-
sponding to the English Alas ! the exclamation of

grief. Such a strange thing, of course, needed an
explanation, and so the flower became connected
with the story of the death of Hyacinthus.
Apollo, as we have seen in the case of Cyparissus,
sometimes formed friendships with mortal youths,
and Hyacinthus was so favoured, though in his case
also it ended in disaster and death. Apollo often
shared the sports of Hyacinthus, and would accom-
pany him when hunting, helping him and bringing

him success carrying his fishing-nets for example,
and putting his dogs on the track of the quarry, quite
laying aside his dignity as a god.
A
favourite game with the Greeks was that of
199
throwing the discus, a flat, round plate of brass, iron,
stone, or wood, about ten or twelve inches across,
akin to the modern quoit. A famous Greek statue
of which we sometimes see copies is called the Dis-
cobolus, or disc-thrower. Sometimes a heavy iron

ballwas used, with a hole through the centre for a
rope or thong which was held while throwing it.
Even the noblest princes would strive to win applause
by throwing the discus further than their opponents.

Apollo and Hyacinthus went out one day to
practise this sport, and Apollo made a huge cast.
His companion, eager to take his turn, ran forward
to seize the discus the momentwas thrown, but it
it
rebounded from the ground, and struck him on the

forehead. The blow was fatal ; he fell to the earth,
and when the god hurried forward and picked him
up, his head fell upon his shoulder like a flower of
which the stem has been broken.
The god did all he could to restore his unfortunate
friend to life, but in vain, and he blamed himself in
his grief as the cause of his death. Then he mourned
over him, wishing that he could have died for him,
or with him; and declared that, since that could
not be, Hyacinthus should become a flower, which
should bear his name, and which Apollo would honour
in song. More than that, the flower should bear on its
leaves the marks of the god's own grief, as a tribute
Stories of Flowers and Plants 201
to his dead friend.
Apollo prophesied, too, that the
time would come when a famous hero should add his
name to the flower, and it should be read upon the
same leaves.
Even
while he spoke, the blood which stained the
grass disappeared, and in its stead arose a flower

of a hue more beautiful than the Tyrian purple,
on whose petals the god inscribed the mournful
"
words AI, AI." It is said that the disc was turned
from its course by Boreas (or by Zephyrus), who was
jealous of the great love between the two friends,
and in this fatal manner vented his evil feeling.
This, of course, the poetical way of saying that the
is
disc was turned aside by the wind, which, if it were
blowing strongly, might very well happen, from the

shape of the missile.
In later times they celebrated in Greece, in memory
of this event, a festival called the Hyacinthia, early
in May, and many suppose that Hyacinth really
represents the tender verdure of spring, killed by

the heat of summer Apollo, of course, being the
Sun-god.
The prophecy of Apollo as to another name being
connected with the flower was fulfilled in this way.
At the end of theTrojan war the famous hero Achilles
was slain by the cowardly Paris, whose sin had caused
the war. Paris, assisted by Apollo, discharged an
2O2 Old Greek Nature Stories
arrow which pierced the hero in the heel, the only
part in which he was capable of being wounded, and
this caused his death.
After the body of Achilles had been burned with
great pomp, his armour, the most wonderful in the

world, having been made for him by the god Vulcan
at the request of Thetis, was to be given to the hero
who was most worthy of such a prize. Agamemnon,
the head of the Greek forces, wisely refused to take
the responsibility of deciding in such a delicate
matter, and called the chiefs together to decide it by
vote. Two of the chiefs, Ulysses and Ajax the son
of Telamon, laid claim to the prize, and no one else
cared to dispute the claim.
Ulysses was a great warrior, but his claim rested

chiefly on his cunning in warfare, for his wily strata-
gems had often been of the greatest service during the
war. Ajax, on the other hand, could lay no claim
to wisdom or cunning, but he was a huge man, of
terrible strength, and, so far as prowess in battle was
concerned, no one could compare with him now that

Achilles was no more. Each of the two rivals made
a speech before the assembly, in which he described
his own exploits, and made light of those of the other,
and at the close the chiefs decided that the coveted
arms should go to Ulysses.
The wrath of Ajax was fearful he who had so
;
Clytie
Lord Leighton
By Permission of the Fine Art Society, Ltd.
often alone withstood Hector, and hosts of foes, and
the fierce flames, and even Jove himself, was now
conquered by his own
grief. Seizing his sword,
"
he exclaimed, This at least my own or will
is ;
Ulysses claim this, too, for himself ? None but Ajax

himself shall conquer Ajax." Then he plunged the
sword into his own breast, and fell dead before those
who had so often witnessed his valour.
From the green turf, made red by his blood, there
sprang up immediately a purple flower, the same
which had once sprung from the blood of Hyacinthus.
But this time the letters AI belonged to the name of
the dead hero. (The Greek form of Ajax is Aias.)
The anger of Ajax was even carried beyond the grave,
for Homer makes Ulysses say, in his account of his
the infernal regions, that all the shades of the
visit to
Greek heroes came to welcome him, except that of

Ajax, which would not come near him.
Clytie was a maiden who was loved by Apollo,
whom she loved passionately in return. But the
fickle god grew cold, and wooed Leucothoe in her
place. Thereupon Clytie, filled with jealousy, told

the father of her rival that she was secretly receiving
visits from a lover. He was so angry that he ordered
hisdaughter to be buried alive, and thus she perished.
The Sun-god tried with his rays to restore her to lif e,
"
but without avail, whereupon he said, Still thou
shalt reach the skies," and turned her into the
Frankincense plant, the gum of which is burnt in the
sacrifices of the gods, and so its perfume reaches
heaven.
But not bring back to Clytie her lover, and
this did
she pined in vain for him. Forsaking the company

of the other nymphs, she lay with dishevelled hair
upon the bare ground, refusing to take food or to be

comforted. For nine days this went on, and while
the Sun travelled across the sky she fixed her gaze on
him, to move the pity of the god. But it was all in
vain, and
seemed as though she was about to die.
it
But instead of that, she was turned into a Sun-

flower, partly pale and partly red, and very like
a violet, which still turns its face to follow the sun.

It is clear that the sunflower of this story cannot
be the large yellow flower we know under that name
possibly it may be a kind of heliotrope, the name
of which indicates a turning towards the sun. Some
of the old naturalists said that the sunflower killed
the frankincense plant when they grew close to-
gether, and it may have been this idea which gave

rise to the story of Leucothoe.
Adonis was a beautiful youth whose mother,
Myrrha, was changed into the tree which bears her
name, as a punishment for a dreadful crime, of which
the bitterness of the myrrh is a memorial. He was
devoted to hunting, and spent his days in following
any animal, however fierce, whose tracks he found.
He was without but Venus, who loved him,
fear,
begged him not to hunt savage beasts, but only those

which fled from the hunter.
He made but one day, when
light of her warnings,
he was following a wild-boar, and had wounded it
with his spear, the savage animal turned upon him,
and gored him in the side with its sharp tusk, so that
he died. When the goddess saw him lying, bathed
in his own blood, she mourned bitterly over him,
and said that, as the goddess Proserpine had changed
a nymph into the mint plant, giving it fragrance
in place of the beauty of the nymph, so Adonis
should be turned into a flower.
Then she sprinkled nectar over him, and when an
hour had passed a flower had sprung from his blood,
of the same colour with it. But like Adonis, it is
short-lived, for it has a very slender stem, and the
wind, from which it takes its name, soon beats it
down. the Anemone, or wind-flower,

T}iis flower is
the Greek word anemos meaning wind.
In Thessaly Aconite and other poisonous plants
were remarkably common, and the ancients explained
this in a story connected with the greatest of all the
heroes, Hercules. The great deeds of Hercules, who

was the son of Jupiter and Alcmena, form a wonderful
series of stories, some which have been already
of
referred to. While he was yet a youth, two female

forms, Pleasure and Duty, met him, each offering
gifts. The " Choice of Hercules " was the gifts
offered by Duty, and henceforth, though his life was
not free from crimes, he used his wonderful powers
chiefly in overcoming and evil men.
evil beasts
His favourite weapons were an enormous club and
his sharp arrows, for he was a wonderful archer.
Having slain his children in a fit of madness sent

upon him by Juno, he was condemned, as a penance,
to obey the commands of his kinsman Eurystheus.
This king sent him on twelve desperate adventures
"
which are called the Labours of Hercules," and
though some seemed impossible, he carried them all
out successfully.
The entrance to the realm of Pluto, the abode of
the dead, was a wide gate, guarded by a serpent-
tailed dog, Cerberus, which had three heads, and kept
constant watch. He was friendly to the spirits
which entered, but would permit none to return.
The last of the twelve labours laid upon Hercules
was to fetch this dog to Mycenae, the city of
Eurystheus. No living mortal was permitted, except
by the special favour of the gods, even to enter the
Land of Shades, so Hercules secured the help of
Mercury and Minerva, who went with him.

He went to Pluto, who gave him permission
first
to carry Cerberus off, provided he could do it without
using weapons. The monster raged and struggled

most furiously, and none but a demi-god would
have dared to offer violence to him, but Hercules
seized him, bound him, and forced him to accompany
his captor Eurystheus, after which the hero
to
took him back to the nether world.
When Hercules brought Cerberus out from the
gloomy cavern which formed the entrance to the

infernal regions, into the light of the sun, the monster
could not bear the brightness, but turned away his
heads, and, struggling more violently than ever,

filled the air with his frightful howlings. The white
foam from his deadly jaws was sprinkled upon the
earth, and, solid, sprang up in the form of
becoming
poisonous plants. Wolf's-bane sprang up plentifully,
which, because it grows on the hard rock, the natives
called aconite (from a word meaning a whetstone).
CHAPTER XVII : STORIES
OF VOLCANIC REGIONS
Typhon Typhoeus and Etna Alarm of Pluto
Hot Springs Attack of Rome by the Sabines
Sulphurous Springs Extinct Volcanoes Travellers'
Tales ofHot Springs Petrifying Springs
CHAPTER XVII
Stories of Volcanic Regions
have already seen that the tremendous
WE forces of nature with which the ancients

were familiar, such as
manifest themselves in the storm, the earthquake,
those which
or the flood, gave rise to many imaginary beings,

and to wonderful tales of their exploits.
The most terrible monster fashioned by the
imagination of the old Greeks to represent the
mysterious and awful powers of the subterranean
fires was Typhon, the most dreadful of the Titans,
the sons of Gsea, the Earth. From the neck of this

a hundred dragon-heads, with
frightful being sprang
destructive breath and eyes flashing fire. Black
tongues were thrust from their mouths, while they
filledthe air with the roaring of lions, the bellowing
of bulls, the barking of dogs, the hissing of serpents,
howls and screams, and all the terrifying noises of
nature.
As the forces of which Typhon the type seem
is
to try to destroy the established order of the world,

211
the monster represented as warring against Jove.
is
But as order is triumphant over chaos, the bolts of
Jupiter overcame even this foe, and Typhon was

driven into Tartarus, the lowest abyss beneath the
earth, to join his brother Titans there. Yet he still
tries to rebel, and sometimes ventures to the very
confines of the underworld, thrusting forth a fiery
tongue from the mouth of a volcano. When the

deadly sirocco threatens men and vegetation equally
with destruction, it is the fiery breath of Typhon
which is felt, as he longs, yet dreads, to come forth
and again do battle with the king of Gods and Men.
In later times, Typhon was supposed to be the same
being as Typhoeus.
Sicily is an island specially remarkable for its
rugged mountains, and the earthquakes and volcanic
eruptions to which it is subject, and we naturally
find it figuring largely in the old myths.
Its connection with Vulcan has been already
noticed, but its
unquiet nature further gave rise to
the legend of Typhceus, who, like all the race of Giants,
was an enemy to the gods. This giant aspired to
scale the heavens and overthrow the gods, but after
a desperate struggle he was worsted. To keep him
from further attempts, the huge mass of Sicily was
heaped upon him, so we can form some idea of his
enormous size. The ancients even specified the
Stories of Volcanic Regions 213
various capes which marked the position of his feet,
and so on.
He lies on his back, and the vast mass of Etna
is
piled on his head. As he casts forth sand and
flame from his raging mouth, the eruptions of the
volcano are caused. He often struggles to free
himself, and to roll from his body the mountains and
cities which cover it, while the earth trembles with
his writhings. Even gjuto is afraid at times, lest the
ground should open, and the daylight be let in to
affright the trembling

shades.
On
one occasion Typhceus struggled so violently
that the King of Shades drove out in his chariot,
drawn by black horses, to survey the foundations of
the Sicilian land, in fear lest they should be giving
way. However, he found that every part was secure,

and that he need not fear for the safety of his infernal
realm.
Just as he was about to return to his palace, he
was seen by Venus, who persuaded her mischievous
little son, Cupid, to pierce his breast with an arrow.
Then it was that he was filled with love for
Proserpine, and carried her off to share his iron

throne. This excursion of Pluto evidently owes
its to a specially severe earthquake, such
origin
as not long ago wrought such ruin in and around
Messina.
Among the many signs of volcanic energy with

which the ancients were familiar were hot springs,
in which the water is heated by the rocks with which
it comes in contact. sometimes happens that,
It
through some underground change, such as the

opening of fresh passages among the rocks, a spring
which has hitherto been cold will suddenly become
hot, or vice versa. There are in many places, too,
deep cracks in the earth's crust, in which may some-
times be seen the pale blue flames of burning sulphur,
for that mineral is very common in connection with
volcanoes.
Hence we can understand how the account of an
attack upon Rome became adorned by supernatural
details. In the early history of that famous city
a sudden attack was made by night, by the Sabines,
but was evidently beaten back. It would seem, from
the story, that some traitor in the city, in league
with the Sabines, had opened one of the gates.
However, the story is as follows.
The gates had been shut and barred, and the
citizens, not thinking of danger, were sleeping peace-
fully, when the Sabines came silently to surprise them.

Juno her enmity to the Romans, opened
herself, in
the gate, without making a sound as the hinges
turned. But Venus saw what was done, and though
a god is not permitted to undo what another god has
Venus
Capitol, Rome 214
done, she determined to protect the descendants of
her son Êneas.
The Naiads occupied a spot ntfar by, where there
was a spring which rivalled the coldness of the waters
of the Alps. To them Venus flew, imploring aid for
her favourite people. So they made the waters of
the fountain gush forth in great abundance, but
placed sulphur, with its faint blue light, beneath it,

and applied fire to the hollow channels which fed
it. So the water rushed out, boiling and foaming,
and the posts of the gate itself steamed with the hot
spray. Thus the gate was made impassable, and the
Sabines were checked until the Romans, aroused by
the rush of the water, had time to arm themselves to
repel the enemy. To show their gratitude to the
goddess for her timely aid, a temple was built and

"
consecrated to Venus, the Looker-out."
Another result of volcanic action is the formation
of great quantities of sulphurous and other gases,
some of which are very offensive in smell. These
may even taint the springs, making them quite
unfit to drink. We
have in England occasional
springs of sulphurous water, which taste and smell
horribly, though they are drunk for their medicinal
properties.
Anigros, in Arcadia, was a stream which had, ,
probably from such a cause, a very unpleasant smell.

But the old Greeks gave a very different explanation
of its origin. When
Hercules had killed the Hydra,
he dipped the points of his arrows into its blood,
which was such a deadly poison that the wounds they
inflicted in future, even if
slight hi themselves,
were nearly always fatal, the victim dying in great
agony. On one occasion a warrior on an expedition
had received a slight scratch of them, and
from one
the wound could not be healed, but the smell from it
was so dreadful that the unfortunate man was left
behind by his companions.

One of the Centaurs, having been wounded with
another of these fatal weapons, washed the wound
in the waters of the Anigros, which ever afterwards
were unfit to drink.
The ancients recognised, from their shape, especially
from the crater or hollow at the top, that certain
mountains had been volcanoes at some tune, but were
now extinct. Hence we find the following passage.
"
Nor Etna, which burns with its sulphureous
will
furnaces, always be a fiery mountain ; nor yet was

it always fiery. For, if the earth is an animal,
and is alive, and has lungs that breathe forth flames
in many a place, it may change the passages for its
breathing, and oft as it is moved, may close these

caverns and open others. Or, if the light winds are
shut up in its lowermost caverns, and strike rocks
Storiesf of Volcanic Regions 217
against rocks, and matter that contains the elements
of flame, and it takes fire when the winds
at the shock,
are once calmed, the caverns will become cool.
Or, the bituminous qualities take fire, or yellow
if
sulphur is being dried up with smouldering smoke,

still, when the earth shall no longer give food and oily
fuel to the flame, its energies being exhausted in
length of time, and when food shall be wanting to its
devouring nature, it will not be able to endure

hunger, and will desert its flames."
The existence of hot springs gave rise to some
"
curious travellers' tales." Thus it was said that
there was a grove in Africa, sacred to the god Ammon,
"
in which was a spring known as the water of the
Sun." At daybreak it was lukewarm, at midday,
when the heat of the air was intense, its waters were
ice-cold. As evening approached they grew warmer ;
at midnight it boiled and bubbled, and then as
morning again approached its heat went off.

Another spring, in a grove at Dodona, sacred to
Jupiter, must have been hotter still, for we are told
that when the waning moon had shrunk to its smallest
orb, wood brought in contact with the stream was
set on fire !
Petrifying streams, such as are met with in Derby-

shire for example, as in other limestone districts,,
were also known to the ancients, who ascribed their
action, of course, to supernatural powers. Thus,
we learn that the Ciconians had a river, which, when
drunk, turned the body into stone, and also laid a
covering of marble over things touched by it. They
believed, too, that many rivers had very marvellous
effects on the bodies and minds of those who drank
or bathed in their waters.
On a level plain near Troezen there was a hill, which
was probably of volcanic origin, and which roused the
curiosity of the Greeks by its peculiar shape. It
was, we are told, a high hill, bare of trees, just like a
huge swelling of the ground, and tradition said it
had once been level with the surrounding plain. As

it was said that warm waters also burst from the earth,
we may assume that the hill was due to the same

hidden fires. But the poet tells us that the raging
power pent up in dark caverns, desired
of the winds,
to find some vent, and had long struggled in vain

to enjoy a freer air.
As there was no opening to their prison, and their
blasts were not able to make one, they swelled out
"
the level earth just as the breath of the mouth
is wont to a bladder, or the hide stripped from
inflate
"
the two-horned goat (that is, a wineskin). The
swelling remained on the spot, and still
preserves
the appearance of a high hill, having grown hard in
course of time. The winds were, of course, supposed
to be conscious beings ; the Greeks did not under-
stand that if there was no opening to the cavern,
"
there could be no raging blasts."
There was another curious story of a spring in a
volcanic region, which was evidently at times charged
with noxious matters. The ancients said that at
"
certain periods the water, which they called the
water of Styx," was fatal to men and animals, broke
vessels in which was placed, and had the power of
it
melting all metals. One writer says it was harmful

if drunk at night, but not if taken during the day-time.
CHAPTER THE XVIII :
GORGON'S HEAD, AND

STORIES OF STONES
Perseus and Medusa Atlas turned into a Mountain
Origin of Snakes in Africa Rescue of Andromeda
Origin of Coral Curiously shaped Rocks Lychas
:
and Others turned into Rocks Origin of Hailstones

The Touchstone : Battus
CHAPTER XVIII
The Gorgon's Head, and Stories of

Stones
story of Medusa, the Gorgon who was
THE slain by Perseus, seems to have made a
great impression on the minds of the

turns up in connection with a number
ancients, for it
of curious facts in nature.

The birth of Perseus was as remarkable as the
wonderful deeds he performed when he grew up.
It had been foretold to king Acrisius that his daughter
Danae, a lovely maiden, should have a son who

should cause the death of his grandfather. So
Acrisius, to make sure that nobody should carry his
daughter away as his bride, shut herup in a chamber
underground, hoping to avoid the fulfilment of the
prophecy.
But Jupiter changed himself into a shower of gold,
which made its way through the ground and so
entered her chamber. Then he assumed his proper
form and took the beautiful maiden for his own bride.
Their son was Perseus, and the king, his grandfather,
determined that both Danae and her infant should
perish. So he placed them in a large chest and set
them afloat upon the sea, feeling sure that the waves
would overwhelm them.
But the wind and the currents carried them to the
isle of Seriphos, where they were rescued by a kind
old fisherman, who, with his wife, adopted them and

treated them' with great kindness. It was Polydectes,
the king of this island, who got Perseus to promise
to go in search of the Gorgon, hoping thus to get
rid of the youth, whom he feared for his strength and
courage. This wicked king treated Danae with

cruelty while Perseus was away, and, very justly,
fella victim to the terrible head when the hero
returned in triumph.
Some years afterwards Perseus joined in a festival
at which his grandfather was present, and took part
in the games of theyoung men, so as to win the
applause of his grandfather, who had never seen him
since his infancy. Then he intended to make him-
selfknown, and seek the old king's love. But the
wind carried a quoit thrown by Perseus, and sent it
crashing on to the foot of Acrisius. The shock killed

the feeble old man, and so the oracle was fulfilled.
It is said that Danaerepresents the earth, which
is loved by the heaven, and made rich and fruitful
Gorgon's Head ;
Stories of Stones 225
by the showers which descend upon it, just as the
King of Heaven sought and wooed Danae under
the form of the shower of gold.
Perseus excelled all the sons of men in strength
and courage. When he grew to be a young man,
he was sent by Minerva to kill Medusa. Long
before, Medusa had been a beautiful maiden whose
hair was her greatest beauty, but as she dared to
compare her beauty to that of Minerva, the goddess
changed her hair into hissing snakes.
So frightful was her appearance, and the dreadful
look of despair on her face, that the horror of it
turned any one who looked upon her into stone.

Round her cave dwelling were the stony figures of
what had once been men and animals. She took up
her abode far in the west, with her two sisters, and
there Perseus went to overcome her. Minerva
inspired him with superhuman strength and courage,
while Mercury lent him his winged sandals, which
carried him swiftly through the air, and his sword
Harpe, made of a single diamond, with which there

was never need to strike a second blow.
He also obtained from Hades the cap of darkness,

which rendered the wearer invisible to human eyes,
and after long journeyings and great difficulty,
found the monster's abode. He dared not look
upon her, but as she lay sleeping he flew down,
looking the while at her reflection in a bright

all
shield which Minerva had lent him, and cut off her
head with one stroke. Then, taking the head, he
flew through the air, pursued for some distance by
her shrieking sisters, who smelt the blood, though
they could not see their enemy.

On his way back, he came to Atlas, the god who
upheld the heavens on his shoulders, and as Atlas
refused the hospitality he asked, and drove him
away, he suddenly uncovered the Gorgon's head and

turned him to stone. Thus Mount Atlas came into
being. Some say, however, that the god, weary of
his burden, himself asked Perseus to work this
change in him.
As Perseus was flying back, over the
Libyan desert,
the blood which dropped from the head fell into the
sand, and brought forth deadly snakes, and that is
why the region ever afterwards swarmed with these
reptiles.
When he arrived at Ethiopia, he saw the lovely
Andromeda, the daughter of Cepheus and Cassiopea,
chained to a rock on the shore. When he asked the
cause, the maiden told him that her mother had
offended the sea-nymphs by boasting that she was
more beautiful than they. So they had sent a
dreadful sea-monster to ravage the coast, and the
fishermen could no longer obtain food from the sea.
Perseus and Andromeda
Lord Leighton 226
By Permission of the Museum & Art Gallery Committee of the Leicester Corporation
Gorgon's Head ;
An oracle had said that only by the sacrifice of
her daughter could the curse be removed, so there
she was, awaiting death when the monster should
arrive.
On condition that she should be his bride if he

delivered her, Perseus fought the monster when it came
wallowing, a huge mass, over the sea, and slew it,

leaving it as a great black rock in the water. When
the conflict was over, he laid the Gorgon's head down
on the he washed away the bloodstains
shore, while
of the fight, laying it on a bed of sea- weed, with which
he also covered it, to preserve it from injury.
When he took up the head, he found that the poison
of the Gorgon's blood had soaked into the sea plants,
and had turned them into stone. The sea-nymphs
saw the change, and were filled with admiration. So
they tried the effect of the head on many other plants,
with the same result, and cast seed from these plants
into the sea. Thus was explained the origin of coral,
which is often so plant-like in shape that the ancients
thought it must somehow have grown as a plant.

So the old writer concludes his account by saying :
;t
Even now the same nature remains in the coral,
that it receives hardness from contact with the air ;
and what was a plant in the sea, out of the sea

becomes stone."
The king and queen joyfully led their daughter
and her brave rescuer to their palace, and a wedding
feast was prepared for them. But while Perseus
was telling them and the assembled guests the story
of his adventures, a great tumult was heard, and in
rushed, with a great number of armed followers,
Phineus, to whom Andromeda had been betrothed.
He angrily claimed his promised bride, but Cepheus
reminded him that he had left the maiden to perish,
while Perseus, having rescued her, had the greater
right.
But Phineus would not listen, and hurled his spear
at Perseus, missing him. Then began a terrible

slaughter, Perseus and his few friends fighting like
heroes. But when the demigod found himself almost
alone, with two hundred foes facing him, he called
still
out a warning to his friends not to look, and un-

covered the fatal Head. As his enemies caught
it, in whatever attitude they happened to be,
sight of
they became stone statues, and so the great fight
ended. So Perseus claimed his bride, and took her
away with him to his own land. The sword and

sandals he returned to Mercury, while the Gorgon's
head was placed by Minerva on her shield.
There are many other stories of human beings
and animals being turned into rocks, probably because
rocks sometimes occur which resemble living beings
in shape. There are rocks in our own country which,
Gorgon's Head ;
when seen in certain aspects, have quite a striking
likeness to living forms.
One such story tells how, when Hercules dragged
Cerberus from the Infernal Regions to the upper
world, a certain man hid in a cave, and on peeping
out he saw the monster. So great was his terror
that he was immediately turned into a rock, which,
one writer assures us, was still to be seen in his time.
Two rocks in the river Ida and running water
especially often wears rocks into curious shapes
were once Olenus and ,his beautiful wife, the latter
of whom boasted that her beauty was equal to that
of the goddesses. When she was about to be punished,
her husband offered to suffer in her stead, but they
were both turned into stones, and are still united in
death.
In the case of Lychas, whom Hercules swung round
three or four times, and then hurled through the air
with greater force than if sent from an engine of
war, the poet tells us that he was bereft of blood
through fear, and having no moisture left in him he

was turned into a stone, just as the showers freeze in
the cold wind, and the snow thus produced, revolving
as it descends, becomes hard and forms hailstones.
Hailstones, however, as we now know, are not formed

from snow. Lychas, thus changed into stone, fell
into the Eubcean Sea, and still projects above the

water, bearing his human form. Many rocks may
be seen along rugged coasts, which might easily be
imagined to bear the shape of living beings.
The Touchstone is a peculiar kind of iron ore which
has the property of attracting iron, and may be used
to reveal the presence of that metal. It is thus a
"
kind of tell-tale," and the old name for it was also
used to mean a spy. On one occasion Mercury
stolesome oxen belonging to Apollo. An old man
named Battus saw the theft, so Mercury gave him
"
a cow to secure his silence. May that stone first
make mention of thy theft," said the old man,
gratefully.
But Mercury, to test him, soon returned in a
different form, and offered him a bull and a cow to
tell what had become of the cattle. Battus, thus
tempted, revealed the secret, when Mercury assumed
"
his previous shape, and saying, Dost thou, treacher-
"
ous man, betray me to myself ? turned him into
" "
the stone which even yet called
is Index (that is,
both touchstone and spy).

CHAPTER XIX: STORIES
OF THE HEROES I
The Twelve Labours of Hercules Bellerophon and
the Chimaera The Calydonian Hunt Cadmus and
the Dragon The Harvest of the Dragon's Teeth
The Necklace of Harmonia Cadmus and his Wife
turned into Serpents
CHAPTER XIX
Stories of the Heroes I
great deeds of the Heroes, the descend-
THE ants of the Gods, have been frequently

referred to in the course of this book, and, in
made a few others of
conclusion, mention will be of
their chief exploits, so far as they relate to adventures
with monsters. The Labours of Hercules, who repre-
sents the benefactor ofmankind, fighting against the
evils that oppress them, are so often mentioned in
literature that it may be well to give the complete

list of The circumstances which led
them. to his
undertaking them have been already related.

Hercules was ordered to slay a monstrous
first
lion, which had wrought great havoc in the valleys

of Nemea, and to bring its skin to Eurystheus at
Mycenae. The hero fought this beast with his club
and with was proof against these.
his arrows, but it
Then he seized the monster with his hands and

strangled it, thus gaining the victory. The skin he
brought to Mycenae, and for the future wore it, with
the head and claws still attached, as a robe.
The second labour was the destruction of the
Hydra, a water-snake which dwelt among the swamps

and fens of Lerna. As he cut off each of its nine
heads, two new
ones grew, until, with the help of a
companion, he stopped this by burning the stumps.

The middle head being immortal, he buried it under
a huge rock. In the third adventure he slew a huge
boar that was ruining the country round Mount
Erymanthus.
In the fourth he captured and brought to the king
a wonderful stag, which had golden horns and hoofs
of brass, and which had slam all who had dared to
hunt it. The Stymphalian birds were immense
birds of prey, which, with their sharp beaks and
talons, and the power they had of shooting from their
wings feathers as sharp as arrows, were very deadly

to the people near Lake Stymphalis, and to then-
cattle. These monsters Hercules overcame as his
fifth labour. Minerva helped him by giving him a
huge pair of brazen clappers which she had asked
Vulcan to make. With these he roused the birds
in a great flock, and slew many of them with his
arrows, while the rest flew away never to return.
The sixth task was to cleanse the stables in which
Augeas, king of Elis, kept three thousand cattle, and
which had not been cleared out for many years.
The work was to be done in one day, and was accom-
Stories of the Heroes 235
plished by turning the currents of two rivers, Alpheus
and Peneus, into the stables by digging a channel
for them.
To Minos, king Neptune had given a
of Crete,
bull of supernatural size and beauty, to provide a
sacrifice, but Minos so admired it that he kept it,
sacrificing one of his own instead.
As a punishment,
the god made the animal go mad, and it raged through
the island doing great damage. As his seventh
labour Hercules not only captured this bull, but
made it carry him on its back across the sea, on his
way home. Eurystheus set it at liberty, but it
became as fierce as ever, and was a great pest until

Theseus killed it.
The eighth labour was to fetch the mares of

Diomedes, a Thracian king, ferocious creatures which
were fed by their master on human flesh, any strangers
who came to his country being sacrificed in this way.
Hercules, however, gave the tyrant himself as food

to the beasts, when they became quite tame in the
hero's hand. On his way back
to his ship, the people
attacked him, to avenge the death of their king,
but Hercules routed them with great slaughter.
When he returned to the horses, which he had left
in charge of a companion, he found that they had
devoured his friend, and to honour his memory
Hercules built a city, naming it after him, Abderus.
As his ninth exploit, Hercules had to fetch the
girdle which Eurystheus wished to
of Hippolyta,
give to his daughter. Hippolyta was Queen of the

Amazons, a race of women-warriors who dwelt on
the shores of the Black Sea, renowned for their
strength and courage. The godlike hero made such

an impression on the queen that she promised to
give him the girdle, but Juno was displeased that he
should succeed so easily. Taking the form of an
Amazon, she roused them to attack the strangers,
saying that they were about to rob them of their
queen. A battle followed, in which some accounts
say that Hippolyta was slain, but the girdle was won.
In the tenth task, the king hoped to get rid of his
rival for ever, for he sent him to a distant island to
fetch a herd of wonderful oxen belonging to Geryon,
a giant with three bodies joined together, and there-
fore with three heads and three pairs of arms and legs.
The oxen were also guarded by a herdsman, another
giant, and a two-headed dog, the offspring of Typhon.
But Hercules slew first the dog, then the herdsman,
and lastly Geryon himself, afterwards carrying off
the herd.
The eleventh labour was to bring to Eurystheus
the golden apples of the Hesperides, the four daughters
of Hesperus, who guarded them with the help of a
hundred-headed dragon. After many adventures
and long journeyings he came to the god Atlas, and
bore the burden of the heavens while the god secured
for him three These he brought
of the golden apples.
back to Eurystheus, who gave them to him, but the
hero placed them on the altar of Minerva, who
restored them to their guardians. One of the ad-
ventures during this journey was a visit to Proteus,
whom he compelled, by holding him firmly in spite
of all the terrifying forms into which he changed
himself, to tell him the way he must travel.

The twelve labours, that of bringing
last of the
Cerberus from the Underworld, has been already

related.
From the blood of the Gorgon sprang two wonder-
ful winged horses unmatched in spirit and in speed,
which no one could tame without divine help. One

of these, Pegasus, was mastered by a young hero
named Bellerophon. In Lycia there was a frightful
monster called the Chimaera, the fore part of which
was a compound of lion and goat, while the hind part
was that of a dragon. Like other dragons, it breathed
out flames, and went about the land dealing death
and destruction.
While the monster was thus ravaging Lycia,
Bellerophon arrived as a visitor to the court, and at
the king's request undertook to do battle with tfye
Chimsera. Now the king had no idea that the youth
might succeed, but he wished to oblige king Prcetus,
who had sent Bellerophon with a request that he
should be got rid of. However, acting on the advice
of a soothsayer, the hero passed the night in the
temple of Minerva, who had caught the horse Pegasus,
tamed him, and presented him to the Muses.
During the night, the goddess brought and gave
to Bellerophon a golden bridle, and in the morning
showed him the wonderful steed drinking at a spring.
The hero walked up to it,and Pegasus, seeing the
bridle, came quietly up to him and allowed him to
put it Then, mounting the steed, the youth

on.
rose quickly into the air, flew along until he saw
the monster he sought, and quickly slew it.
Many other great deeds were performed with the

help of Pegasus, until the king, now realising the
worth of his guest, gave him his daughter in marriage
and made him his heir. But Bellerophon grew proud
and self-confident, and by his presumption aroused
the anger of heaven. When at last he attempted to
fly to heaven on the back of the winged steed, Jove

sent a gadfly to sting Pegasus, and the rider was
thrown off. Lame and blind for the rest of his life,
the unhappy hero at last died miserably.
JSneus, king of Calydon, and Althea his queen, had
a son named Meleager, of whom the fates had said
that his life should last no longer than a brand which
was burning on the hearth at the time of his birth.
Althea seized the brand, quenched it, and hid it
away in the palace, and the child in time grew up
to be a brave and handsome young man. Then it
happened that his father aroused the anger of Diana

by neglecting her worship, and the goddess sent a
huge and supernatural boar to lay waste his land,
and no one was able to kill the monster.

So the heroes of Greece, Theseus, Jason, Peleus,
and many others, were invited to join in a great hunt
to slay the boar. Among the hunters was Atalanta,
a beautiful maiden, graceful and skilled with the bow,
and full of courage and zeal in hunting, so that
Meleager loved her from the moment he saw her.

The boar lay concealed among the reeds by the side
of a stream in a wood, but rushed out when he heard
the clamour of the hunters and their dogs.
The dogs had no chance against such a foe ;
in his
fiercerush he gashed them as he passed, and left one
after another dying on the ground. More than one
of the hunters, too, were wounded or slain by his
terrible tusks. At last Atalanta pierced his side
with an arrow, though the wound was slight. Then
Meleager drove his tough spear deep into the
monster's side, and he rolled over dying.
The heroes crowded round to praise their friend,
but Meleager gave the dreadful head and rough skin
to Atalanta, saying that as she had given the first
wound she was entitled to the spoils of the chase.

Some of the others, however, hated to see the honours
go to a girl, and a quarrel arose in which Meleager
killed the two brothers of his mother. When the news
reached her, she was filled with anger, and after a
struggle between her love for her son and her desire
to avenge the death of her brothers, she brought
forth the quenched brand and cast it into the fire.
As it burnt away, Meleager dreadful pains
felt
shooting through his frame, and very soon died in

agony, while his mother put an end to her own life.
Such was the sad ending of the Calydonian Hunt.
Cadmus was a young prince who, directed by
Apollo, settled in a strange country and built the
city of Thebes. Arriving at the spot where he was
to build, he wished to offer a sacrifice to Minerva,
and sent his followers to get water. So they entered
a grove from which a stream ran, to find the spring
from which it came. Within the grove, however,
there was a cave in which lurked a huge dragon,
whose scales glittered like gold. A
crest stood on
his head, his open jaws showed three rows of teeth,

and a triple tongue, while he was swollen with venom.
As the men stooped for water, the monster darted
out, killed some with his fangs, others with his
poisonous and fiery breath, while others were crushed

in his scaly folds, so that not one escaped. Presently
Cadmus himself came they lingered, and
to see why
saw the dead bodies of his men, and the serpent
dripping with their blood. Not knowing that the
monster was sacred to Mars, he attacked it furiously.
First he flung a huge stone, but though it reached its
mark it seemed to have no effect. Then he attacked
it with his spear, and at last managed to strike the
point through its open jaws and pin the dragon to

the trunk of a tree just behind its head.
The voice of Minerva, who, though unseen, had been
helping her favourite, now bade him take the teeth
of the dragon and sow them in the earth. Scarcely
had he done this when through the surface there
appeared the points of spears, followed by plumes
and helmets. As these rose, the heads, shoulders
and arms of warriors showed themselves, and in
a very short time a harvest of fully-armed warriors
had sprung from the dragon's teeth. One of them
warned Cadmus not to interfere, and a fierce fight
began, from which at length only five men remained

alive. With their help he built the city of Thebes,
as he had been commanded.
After a penance of eight years Cadmus was forgiven
by the warlike god, but misfortune and violence

never left his race. Afterwards he married Harmonia, r
daughter of Mars and Venus, and their wedding was

Q
honoured with the presence and gifts of the gods
and goddesses of Olympus. The present of Vulcan
to Harmonia was a brilliant necklace he had made
himself, but though of marvellous beauty, it

always seemed to bring evil, after Harmonia's
death, to its possessor.
Cadmus and his wife suffered many griefs, and one
day in his old age, the king, thinking of the death of
the dragon, and the troubles which had followed it,
"
said :If a serpent's life is so dear to the gods, I
would I were a serpent." Hardly had he spoken

when he was changed and Harmonia,
into that form,
seeing this, prayed that she might share the same

fate. Her prayer was answered, and the two
serpents, gentle and friendly to all human beings,
never shunned the company of men, nor was any-
one ever afraid of them.
CHAPTER XX: STORIES
OF THE HEROES II
CEdipus and the Sphinx The Sirens : Hidden
Dangers of the Shore Ulysses and the Sirens
The Argonauts and the Sirens Ulysses and Poly-
phemus
CHAPTER XX
Stories of the Heroes II
king of Thebes, a descendant of Cadmus,

having been warned by an oracle at the birth
LAIUS,
of his son, that ifhe grew up he would be a
danger to his throne and life, gave the infant to
one of his herdsmen, with orders to destroy him.
But the man, not liking the task, pierced the child's
feet, intending to leave him to perish, and then gave
him to a fellow herdsman, who took him to Corinth,
where he was adopted by the King and Queen, and
called or Swollen-foot.
(Edipus,
When he grew up, he learned from an oracle that
he was destined to be the cause of his father's death,
and, to avoid such a calamity, he left Corinth, thinking
he was the son of the king. Driving along a narrow
road in his chariot, he met another chariot in which
was Laius, with an attendant. A quarrel arose as to
which should give way, and (Edipus slew both Lams
and his servant, and thus the oracle was fulfilled
without any suspicion of the truth.

Then, led by fate, he made his way to Thebes,
245
which was soon afterwards in great trouble. For
a dreadful monster, the Sphinx, with the body of a
lion but the upper part of a woman, haunted the
roads leading to the city. She stopped all travellers,
asking each to solve a riddle, and promising a safe

passage if they could give the answer, but until
(Edipus went out to try to overcome her none had
succeeded, and all had been slain by the monster.
But (Edipus, undismayed, boldly faced the Sphinx,
who asked him " What animal is it which in the
:
morning goes on four feet, at noon on two, and in the

" "
evening on three ? Man," replied the youth,
"
who in childhood creeps on all-fours, in manhood
walks erect, and in the evening of life supports his
steps with a staff." Then the Sphinx, mortified
at her riddle being at last solved, threw herself down
from a high rock and perished.
(Edipus afterwards became king of Thebes, but
was overwhelmed by terrible sorrows. In his old
age he was driven forth, and wandered, blind and
dying at last at Athens,
helpless, in strange lands,
where his friend Theseus had welcomed him. His
troubles, however, were lightened by the unceasing
love and care of his lovely daughter Antigone.
The Sirens were the daughters of the river-god
and were companions of Proserpine at the
Acheloiis,
time when she was carried off by Pluto. They were so
attached to her that when they had fruitlessly sought
for her all over Sicily,
they begged Jupiter to grant
them wings, so that they might carry on their search
over the sea. Their request was granted, and they
were turned into birds, but so sweet were their voices
(then* mother being one of the Muses) that Jupiter
would not suffer those to be destroyed, so they still
retained the heads of maidens.

At a later time them very much changed
we find in
character, when they seem to be an embodiment of

the hidden dangers which often beset an attractive
coast. are represented as beautiful maidens,
They
with the terrible claws of a bird of prey, and some-
times with wings, who sit on the shore of a beautiful
island somewhere near Sicily, luring mariners to their

doom. They sing with such marvellous sweetness
that none who hear them can resist the temptation
to land, when they are devoured by the pitiless
monsters. Around them lie the bones of their victims,
but others are too enchanted to take warning by
their fate.
Ulysses, on his long homeward

journey, had to
pass by their island, but he determined to hear their
song, without danger. So the crafty warrior filled

the ears of his men with wax, so that they should not
hear the enticing strains, and ordered them on no
account to pay any attention to him until they were
far from the dangerous spot. Then he had himself
bound firmly to the mast, and his men rowed past the
island. When he heard the song of the Sirens, he
made frantic signs to his men to loose him, but they
obeyed his first command and went on with their
rowing, so the danger was passed in safety. One of

the monsters was so mortified at the escape of Ulysses
that she cast herself into the sea and so perished.
The Argonauts also passed the isle of the Sirens,
and had a very narrow escape. As they heard the
enchanting strains, weariness came over them, they
thought of all the toils they had undergone, and all
that lay before them. Why should they not, they
asked each other, cease from all their endless labour,
and land on this inviting shore, to spend their lives
in luxurious ease and the enjoyment of such wondrous
music ?
But, fortunately, Orpheus was with them, and when

he saw them giving way to the charm, he seized his
lyre, and sang in heroic strains the glory of striving
and overcoming. More and more loudly he sang,
till he drowned the seductive voices of the Sirens,
and courage and hope came back into the hearts of

his companions. So they bent to the oars, and
Orpheus did not cease his inspiring song until the
danger was left far behind.
In another of his famous adventures, Ulysses came
< c
JB S
g-cn
into conflict with the Cyclops, Polyphemus. He with
his brother monsters lived in an island which they
alone inhabited, living in caves, and tending their

flocks of immense sheep. Coming to the island,
Ulysses left most of his ships at anchor some distance
away, but with his own vessel landed on the coast,
and began to explore it, seeking food for his ships.
His men carried a skin of wine as a present to any
important personage they might meet.
Coming to a huge cave, they entered, and to their
surprise found great stores of cheese, with bowls of
milk, and in one part pens containing young lambs
and Everything was in order,
kids. but no man
was visible. While they were examining the place,
a huge giant came up, driving before him a large
number of sheep and goats. Throwing down outside
the cave a huge bundle of wood he was carrying to
burn, he drove the animals inside to milk them,
first rolling into the opening a stone so large that
twenty oxen could not have moved it.

Having milked the ewes, he set aside part of the
milk for drinking, and prepared the rest for making
cheese. Then, as he turned round, he caught sight
of the strangers, who would ere this have made their
way out of the cavern if the door had not been
In his huge voice he asked who
so effectually shut. ,
they were and how they came there, while his one
fierce eye, in the middle of his forehead, flashed with
anger.
Ulysseshumbly explained who they were, and
begged hospitality in the name of the gods, but the
monster scoffed at the gods, and seizing two of the
sailors, killed them by dashing their heads against
the rock. These he ate as his supper, washing down
the horrible meal with bowls of milk. Then he lay
down before the fire he had kindled on coming in,
and fell asleep. Ulysses then drew his sword, and
would have slain him, but suddenly remembered that
it would be impossible to escape, with the huge rock
blocking the entrance.
Next morning the giant awoke, killed and devoured
two more and drove away his flock,
of his prisoners,
carefully blocking the opening of the cave, and on his

return in the evening another two of the travellers
shared the fate of their dead comrades. But mean-
while, Ulysses had thought out a plan of escape, and
presently, bringing forward the wine they had

fortunately carried with them, invited Polyphemus
to taste it. The giant was delighted with this, to
him, new beverage, and asked the name of the giver.

Ulysses replied that his name was Noman, and the
giant told him that as a mark of his esteem he would
eat him last.
Polyphemus then drank so much of the wine that

Stories of the Heroes 25 1
he presently fell into a drunken sleep, and now was
the time for which Ulysses waited. Taking a large
piece of the giant's huge olive staff, he and his men

till the end was one
held it in the fire burning and
glowing mass, and then plunged it into the eye of
the sleeping monster, twisting it round and quite
destroying the sight.

Then, while the howls of the cyclops rang through
the cave, Ulysses and his companions rushed off and
hid themselves in crevices. Drawn by the uproar,
other giants gathered outside to know the cause.
"
To enquiry he answered :
their Friends, I die,
and Noman gives the blow." Thinking he meant
that the pain was sent by the gods, they left him and
went back to their own caves.
In the morning Polyphemus opened the mouth of
the cave and let out his flock to feed, but stood in
the entrance and felt the backs and sides of the
sheep as they passed, to make sure his enemies

were not escaping. However, Ulysses had expected
and had made preparations for it. With twigs
this,
from the monster's bed they had fastened the sheep
side by side in threes during the night, and under
the middle one of each three a Greek was clinging,
so they all got past unsuspected. Ulysses himself
was under the largest ram of the flock.
Before they had gone far, they loosed themselves,

and drove as many as they could carry down to their
ship, which they pushed from shore as quickly as

off
possible. When they thought they were at a safe

distance, Ulysses shouted to the Cyclops, telling him
it was to Ulysses he owed his shameful defeat.
But this almost brought destruction upon him, for
the Cyclops, heaving up a huge rock, threw it in the
direction of the sound. Falling just in front of the
prow, it drove the vessel back towards the land,

but the next rock fell short, and the wave it raised
carried the Greeks out of reach.
Dearly did Ulysses pay for this triumph, for the

Ocean God, the father of Polyphemus, inflicted
numberless misfortunes on him in return for the fate
of his son, but after many years he got back safely
to his own land.
INDEX
ABAS, 141 Atalanta, 239
Abderus, 235 Athamas (Ath'a-mas), 103
Acheloiis (Ach-e-lo'us), 84, 112, 246 Athene (A-the'ne), 22, 23, 34
Achilles (A-ehil'let), 23, 88, 99, 116, 201 Atlas, 74, 226, 237
Acis (A'cis), 100 Attis, 192
Aconite, 205 Augean Stables (Au-ye'an), 234
Acrisius (A-crtfi-us), 223, 224 Aurora, 36, 69
Actoon (Ac-ta'on), 86 Auster, 81
Adonis, 204
JEacus (â-cus), 146 BACCHUS (Bacchus), 52, 108, 109, 136,
Êgina (JS-gi'na), 146 138, 178
JEgis (Ê'gis), 22 Bats, 138
Êneas (Ê-ne'as), 75, 84, 179 Battus, 230
jEolus (Ê'o-lus), 75, 175 Bears, 129
Êsacus (Msa-cus), 171 Bellerophon (Bel-ler'o-phon), 237, 238
JSsculapius (jEs-cu-la'pi-us), 25, 40 Bore, Tidal, 107
Agamemnon (Ag-a-mem'nori), 178, 202 Boreas, 33, 75, 81, 201
Ajax (A'jax), 202 Bronze Age, 95
Alphseus (Al-phe'us), 110 Butterflies, 147
Althea, 238
Amazons, 236 CADMUS, 240
Amphion (Am-phi'-on), 35 Calais (Cal'a-is), 82
Amphitrite, 96 Calisto, 129
Andromeda (An-ch-om'e-da), 228 Calliope (Cal-li'o-pe), 165
Anemone (An-em'-on-e), 205 Calydonian Hunt, 240
Anigros, 215 Canens, 182
Anius, 178 Cassiopea (Cas-ri-o-pe'ia), 226
Antigone (An-tig'o-ne), 182, 246 Celeus, 48
Ants, 145 Centaur, 40, 216
Apes, 124 Cephalus, 71
Aphrodite (Aph-ro-di'te), 26 Cepheus, 226
Apollo, 23, 27, 33, 127, 140, 155, 160, Cephissus, 60
167, 178, 187, 199, 203, 230 Cerberus, 206, 229 1
Arachne (A-rach'ne), 142 Cercopians (Cer-co pi-ana), 124
Areas, 129 Ceres (Ce'res), 46, 109, 123, 141, 148, 169
Ardea, 179 Ceyx (Ce'yx), 154, 175
Ares (A'res), 22 Charles' Wain, 130
Arethusa (Ar-e-thu'ta), 110 Charybdis (Cha-ryVdis), 101
Argonauts, 82, 248 Chimaera (Chi-mce'ra), 237
Argus, 166 Chiron (Cki'ron), 40
Anon (A-ri'on), 137 Circe (Cir'ce), 103, 182
Aristseus (Ar-is-tte'ut), 97 Clymene (Clym'e-ne), 37
Arne, 166 Clytie, 203
Artemis, 28, 24, 25, 35 Compasses, 158
Ascalaphua (Ai-cal'a-phus), 170, 189 Coral, 225, 226
Ass, 125 Coronis (Co-ro'nit), 160
X6S
Cranes, 180 Gerane (Ger'an-e), 181
Cronus, 95 Geryon (Ge-ry'on), 236
Crow, 159 Glaucus, 103
Cupid, 26, 148, 188, 213 Golden Age, 95
Cyane (Cy'a-ne), 47, 49 Gorgon, 22, 223, 228
Cybele (Cyb'e-le), 179 Grasshopper, 70
Cyclops, 14, 99, 249
Cycnus (Cyc'nus), 39 HALCTONE (Hal-cy'o-ne), 175
Cyparissus (Cyp-a-ris'sus), 189 Hamadryads, 59
Cypress, 189 Harmonia, 241
Cyrene (Cy-re'ne), 97 Harpies, 82
Hawk, 153, 154
D^DALION 1
(Dee-da li-on), 154 Hebe (He'be), 22

Daedalus (Dced'a-lw), 158 Hecate (Hec'a-te), 85
Danae (Dan'a-e), 223-225 Hekatoncheires (Hek'a-ton-cheir'es),
Daphne (Daph'ne), 187 Helicon, 163
Deianira (De-i-a-nei'ra), 114 Helios, 24, 36
Delphi, 33 Hellenes, 11
Deluge, 34 Hephaestus (He-phces'tus), 22
Demeter (De-me'ter), 46 Hera, 22, 129
Deucalion (Deu-ca 1 li-on), 34, 95, 96 Hercules, 114, 170, 181, 205, 216, 229,
Diana, 23, 25, 35, 84, 111, 140, 239 233
Diomedest (Di-o-me'des), 235 Hermes (Her'mes), 26
Dionysus (Di-o-nys'us), 52 Heron, 179
Disappearing Eivers, 111 Hesperides (ffes-per'i-des), 74, 236
Diver, 170 Hesperie, 171
Dolphin, 94, 135, 137 Hesperus, 74
Doves, 178 Hippolyta (Hip-pol'y-ta), 236
Dragon's Teeth, 241 Horae (ffo'rai), (The Hours), 37, 64
Dryads, 59, 61 Horn of Plenty, 115
Dryope (Dry'o-pe), 59 Horse, 144
Hot Springs, 214, 217
Hyacinth, 199, 200
EARTHQUAKES, 212 Hydra, 115, 216, 234
Echo, 60
Hygeia (Hy-ye'ia), 41
Electra, 89
Hyperboreans (Hyp-er-bo're-ans),
Eleusis, 48
Endymion (En-dym'i-on), 87 ICARUS (Ic'a-rus), 158
Eos, 36, 69 Ino, 103
Ephialtes (Eph-i-al'tes), 99 lo (Fo), 155
Eridanus (E-rid'a-nus), 39
lole (I'o-le), 59
Erysichthon (Er-i-xkh'thori), 61
Iphis (I'phis), 64
Ethiopians, 39 Iris, 88, 177
Etna, 99, 213, 216 Iron Age, 95
Europa, 145
Itys (I'tys), 153
Eurus, 81
Eurystheus (Hu-ryt'theus), 206, 233
JACKDAW, 166
Jason, 82
FAMINE, 62 Juno, 22, 75, 103, 129, 140, 146, 155,
Fauns, 58 177, 182, 214
Frankincense, 204 Jupiter, 21, 87, 122, 125, 145, 148,
Frogs, 141 155, 223, 247
Fundy, Bay of, 107
KINGFISHER, 175
GJSA (Gce'a), 14, 211
Galatea, 100 LABOURS OF HERCULES, 206, 238
Ganymede, 23 Labyrinth, 158
Index 2 55
Laius (La'ius), 245 Orpheus (OSpheut), 248
Latona (La-to'na), 23, 35, 140 Ossa, 99
Laurel, 189 Otus, 99
Leto, 23 Owl, 159, 168
Leucothoe" (Leu-co'tho-e), 203
Lotis, 59
PACTOLUS, 53
Loup-garou, 122 Pan, 50, 126
Lucifer, 74, 154, 175 Pan's pipes, 126
Lycaon (Ly-ca'on), 122 Pandion (Pan-di'on), 152
Lychas (Ly'ckas), 228 Paris, 201
Lyncus, 123 Parnassus, 95, 155, 163
Lynx, 123 Partridge, 157
Peacock, 155
MACHUS (Afach'us), 155 Pegasus (Petfaxus), 163, 237
Peleus (Pe'leus), 98
Magpies, 163
Pelion (Pe'li-on), 99
Mars, 22
Marsyas (Mar'syas), 34 Penelope (Pe-nel'o-pe), 76
Medusa, 22, 223 Peneus (Pe-ne'us), 187
Pentheus (Pen'theus), 53
Meleager (Me-le-a'ger), 238, 239, 240
Mercury, 26, 156, 206, 224, 225, 228-230 Perdix, 157
Midas, 53, 125 Persephone (Per-seph'o-ne), 46
Perseus (Per'seus), 223-228
Minerva, 22, 138, 143, 159, 163, 206,
225-228, 238, 240 Petrifying streams, 217
Phaeton (Pha'e-ton), 37
Minos, 167, 235
Minotaur (Min'o-taur), 158 Philomela (Phil-o-me'la), 152
Phineus (Phi'neui), 83, 228
Mint, 205
Phoebus (Phce'bus), 23
Minyas, 138
Morpheus (Mor'pheus), 177 Phosphorus, 74, 175
Mulberry, 192 Picus, 182
Pierus (Pi'ents), 164
Muses, 34, 163
Pindus. 163
Myrmidons, 147
Pine tree, 192
Myrrha, 204
Pithecusae (Pith-e-cu'sat), 125
Pluto, 41, 47, 49, 206, 213
NAIADS (Nai'ads), 59, 113, 215 Pole Star, 131
Narcissus, 60 Polydectes (Pol-y-dec'tes), 224
Naxos, 136 Polyphemus (Pol-y-phe'mui), 76, 100,
Nemean lion, 233 249
Neptune, 39, 62, 75, 94, 109, 144, 171 Pomona, 59, 63
Nereids (Ne're-ids), 96 Poseidon (Po-tei'don), 39, 94
Nereus (Ne're-us), 96 Procne, 152
Newt, 141 Procris, 71
Nightingale, 151 Proserpine, 46, 170, 213, 246
Niobe (Ni'o-be), 35 Proteus (Pro'teus), 96, 237
Nisus, 167 Psyche (Psy'che), 147, 148
Neman, 250 Purple lock, 167
Notus, 81 Pygmies, 181
Nymphs, 58, 164, 191 Pyramus (Pyr'a-mu*), 192-195
Pyrrha (Pyr'rha), 34, 95
OCBANUS, .93, 130 Python, 33

CEdipus (CEd'i-piu), 245
Olenus (O'len-us), 229 RAINBOW, 88
Olive Tree, 144, 191 Raven, 159
Olympus, 21, 28, 99 Reeds, 126, 128
Oreads (ffre-adt), 59 Rho3cus (Rhce'ms), 63
Orithyla (Ori-thy'ia), 81 Rocks, 227
SABINBS, 214 Ihlsbe (This'be), 192, 195
Satyrs, 52, 58 Titans, 14, 211
Saw, 158 Tithonus (Ti-tho'nus), 70
Scamander, 116 Tmolus (Tmo'lus), 127
Scylla, 101, 167, 168 Touchstone, 230
Sea-eagle, 168 Triptolemus (Trip-iol'e-mus), 48, 123
Sea-nymphs, 93, 180 Triton, 75
Seasons, 64 Turnus, 179
Seine, 108 Typhoeus (Ty-phce'us), 212
Semele (Sem'e-le), 52 Typhon, 211, 236
Seriphos (Se-ri'-phos), 224
Sicily, 212 ULYSSES, 76, 102, 202, 247, 248, 249,
Silenus (Si-le'nus), 52 252
Silver Age, 95
Uranus, 14
Sirens, 246 '
Ursa Major, 130
Snakes, 225 Ursa Minor, 130, 131
Soul, Immortality of, 147
Sphinx, 246 205, 213, 214, 215
VENUS, 26, 148,
Spiders, 142
Vertumnus, 63
Stellio, 141
Vesta, 28
Storks, 181
Volcanoes, 99, 100, 212
Stymphalian birds, 234 Vulcan, 22, 99, 117
Sudden floods, 116
Sulphur springs, 215
Sunflower, 204 WEREWOLF, 122
Swallow, 151 Whirlwinds, 82
Swan, 39
Wild Olive, 191
Syrinx (Sy'rinz), 126 Winds, 218
Wolf, 121
Wolf's bane, 207
TARTARUS, 47, 212
Tempest (Dog), 73 Woodpecker, 182
Tereus 152
(Te'reus), Wren, 169
Tethys 130
(Te'thys), 93,
Thaumas, 88 ZEPHTRUS (Zepk'y-rus), 81, 147, 148, 201
Theseus, 112, 158, 235 Zethes (Ze'thes), 82
Thetis, 98 Zerus (Zeua), 14, 21, 70
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Old Greek Nature Stories

TOLD THROUGH THE AGES

By Permission of Mr. Frederick Hollyer

F. A. FARRAR B.A. B.Sc.

Sacred Goddess, Mother Earth,

I. How THE OLD GREEKS LOOKED AT NATURE . 9

XI. STORIES OF ANIMALS II . . .133

XIV. STORIES OF BIRDS

XV. STORIES OF TREES . . , .185

XIX. STORIES OF THE HEROES I . . .231

DANAE AND THE TOWER OF

THE CHILDHOOD OF ZEUS G. F. Watts ... PAGE

JUPITER Capitol, Rome , . 16

THE FORGE OF VULCAN Velasquez ... 22

NEPTUNE Adam, Louvre . . 94

PSYCHE Harry Bates . . .146

CUPID ASLEEP . Perrault 188

CLYTIE .... Lord Leighton 202

VENUS .... Capitol, Rome 214

PERSEUS AND ANDROMEDA . Lord Leighton 226

ORPHEUS .... J. M. Swan, R.A. 248

OLD GREEKS LOOKED

a World where Things were possible Origin of

Nature Myths Greeks and Romans

How the Old Greeks looked at Nature

than three thousand years ago there

by the Romans. As time went on they made such

their glory five hundred years before the people of^ \

our own had got beyond the stage of painted

Now, one of the most interesting things that these

among them from generation to generation, from

them; and one of the best ways of getting this

knowledge is through the wonderful stories in which

Greeks) are so constantly met with in reading, and

the forces of nature act and education is so general,

If anyone were to us nowadays, seriously, that

he had seen in the forest a dreadful serpent, which

sorts of wonderful things were possible. Knowing

ffffspring^)f Uranus (Heaven) and Gaea (Earth) ;

gave rise to theji^brothers, the__Titans, who warred

weapons of Zeus, the king of the gods, but were

forest, disappearing almost before the hunter or the

with the eyesight of the belated wanderer in the

how he had caught sight of a fleeting nymph of

Diana's huntress train.

swell the list of strange beings created by their lively

imagination, as anyone can easily understand who

danger, and even when surrounded by fancied

and killed the Fairy Bear, though he half expected

his sword to turn to water in his hand, they bore

mystery nature was them, that many_qf _their

myths, as these imaginary stories are called, have

on the sea, even the strange intervals of perfectly

Many peculiarities of birds, beasts, and insects

which, in the present volume, we propose to

aswe have already said, for the Romans, as a younger

by the names given to them by the Latin race.